


Midsummer Solstice

by iterations



Category: Alien vs Predator (2004), Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predator (Yautja) & Related Fandoms, Predator (Yautja) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Culture, Anal Fingering, Chiva, Dubious Consent, Exophilia, First Time Blow Jobs, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Gangbang, Hand Jobs, Human Sacrifice, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Lecturing, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Non-Penetrative Sex, POV Multiple, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Self-Doubt, Sharing Is Fun, Spitroasting, Teratophilia, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vikings, Voyeurism, Xenomorphs (Alien), Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iterations/pseuds/iterations
Summary: They prepared for the Chiva, but they didn't prepare forher.
Relationships: Yautja (Predator)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 345
Kudos: 281





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [iblankedonmyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iblankedonmyname/pseuds/iblankedonmyname) for committing to editing every damn chapter of this!

**Odin's PoV**

For the people living in the world they called _Miðgarðr_ , it was the day of the midsummer solstice. It was the longest day of the planetary cycle. Dusk barely cast its veil over the land before the sun claimed the horizon anew. The blue planet was home to an abundance of tribes and everywhere he went, the indigenous population saw his species, the Yautja, as gods. The civilizations knew him by names such as; Shiva, Tezcatlipoca, Ad Dajjal and many more. 

This particular tribe called him _Óðinn_. A priesthood existed only to serve him. To them, he was the _All-father_ , the mightiest among the mighty, the wisest among the wise. He had lived long enough to meet the great great great great great great great grandsire of the current priest and even older ancestors too insignificant to remember. He was a Yautja Elder, an overseer of Chivas. 

The festival of the summer solstice was a feast to celebrate the harvest, fertility, fortune and prosperity. While the other gods took offerings of food and mead, Odin required sacrifices of the flesh. Seven souls, he demanded. It mattered not if they were young or old, in good health or ill, the priest had the power of selection. As long as he provided seven on the day of the solstice, the _miðsumar blót_ , Odin was satisfied.

He landed the cloaked scout ship in a small clearing and stepped out into the forest to prepare the trial. Sometimes two of his offspring joined him on these trips. They were called _Þórr_ and _Týr_ , and the people worshipped them as well. However, this time Odin came alone.

It was the prime of the planetary cycle and nighttime was nearly as bright as daytime. The forest teemed with life. Trees and shrubs were heavy with splendid greenery, the forest mammals had birthed their young and birds sang nearly the entire planetary turn. 

Odin walked underneath the tall fir-trees until he arrived at the roots of a mountain the tribe called, _Drekfjell_. The massive underground cave system was rumored to house dragons. It was a forbidden place unless the tribesmen had business with the gods. 

The cloaked priest waited for him near the cave’s opening. Over hundreds of hands over hundreds of years had sculpted the entrance until it doubled in size. The priest’s face was hidden behind his cowl, but Odin still recognized him as a new disciple. He reeked of ambition, but also of youthful insecurity. 

The priest threw himself on the ground and groveled when he caught sight of the god. Standing at over 7', Odin was two heads taller than most men and as wide as a cave troll. The Elder was a formidable sight to behold. A beastly metal mask stitched together with what looked like copper dragon scales hid his face. There were no visible slits for his eyes. Instead, a red, staring oval was painted where his right eye should have been. The strangely shimmering bloodsnake steel peeking from the scabbard on his belt was enough to instill dread in the bravest of warriors. The priest trembled and crowed, "Hail Odin!"

The previous shaman had been an old man, perhaps he had perished. Apes never lived long. Odin clicked in displeasure when the disciple didn't rise. The old priest had been quicker to get on with business. Growing impatient with the unending submissiveness, Odin decided not to wait for the priest to stand. He played one of his voice recordings. A female voice burdened by her years rasped, "Blót." He continued to sift between the phrases in his bio-mask until he found the question he was looking for, "Prepared?"

The priest raised his head and looked at Odin. He pointed a shaking hand at the cave's opening. Odin walked past him with his cargo hanging in a net over his shoulder. Inside the cave, stretched a tunnel that had been chiseled out to accommodate his height. When the passage ended, it opened into a grand hall built inside a natural cave. 

It was completely dark inside, so his bio-mask switched to night vision automatically, but the seven offerings had no such luxuries. They were tied to pillars, placed in a circle facing each other in the middle of the cave. The new priest had done his duty. Odin placed his net on the floor and released the eggs inside. They totalled to seven, one for each sacrifice. 

The Elder cradled each egg carefully before placing them in front of the future hosts. With a quick peer at a command menu inside the visor of his bio-helmet, the three-pointed targeting laser mounted on the mask drew together into a single strong beam. He pointed the laser at each egg, quickly burning away the seal on the top petals that kept the pki'tle locked inside. He could see their electro-magnetic signatures move inside the rough shells. 

It didn’t take long for the first egg to open. The first creature crawled out from its sticky, white yolk and took a leap towards the nearest offering. Before the male knew what was happening, it latched onto his face and wrapped its long tail around his throat. The ovipositor plunged deep into the offering's throat, making the passage bulge when the embryo slid down his esophagus. 

The rest of the bound apes squirmed in their leather straps, but the darkness inside the cave obscured the scene. One by one the rest of the eggs opened and more pki'tle found their hosts. Odin was pleased. He had made sure the Chiva would commence as planned. Once the implanted embryos had grown into viable z'skvy-de, they would hatch through the hosts' chests and grow into the most formidable prey in the known universe, the kiande amedha. His work here was done. 

As he emerged from the cave and stepped back into the open, the priest prostrated again. Odin paid him no heed and sealed the mountain with a laser net by throwing a couple of smooth metal marbles in the opening. The beads expelled a laser rimmed net that stuck to the frame of the tunnel. He finished off the seal by rolling a large boulder over the opening. This would keep the serpents inside and unworthy visitors at bay. 

He returned to his ship. The engines engaged with a muted whirr and the ship lifted, slowly at first until reaching the upper part of the atmosphere, then with increased speed until it was jetting up in space. His co-pilot, Ull, sent a missive to the ship carrying the Young Bloods to prepare. Their Chiva would start shortly.

Odin turned on the monitors showing the ceremonial hall. The pki'tle had all hatched and were clamped onto the offerings' faces. When the z'skvy-de birthed there was plenty of meat for them to eat from the food offerings. The apes had left a whole ox and seven lambs in the ceremonial hall. Once the pods with the Young Bloods dropped, the real surveillance would begin. The Elders would tap into the transmission from the participants' bio-masks and monitor their every move. Everything they saw, Odin and Ull saw.

At the moment the feed was tedious to watch. The offerings slouched in their restraints, lulled to sleep by the narcotic agent excreted from the creatures. Odin had seen the births uncountable times, it did not interest him. The spectacle he enjoyed watching was when the Young Bloods were let inside and the trial would commence. The fight between the young Yautja and the kiande amedha was by no means a certain victory. This was when the weaklings perished and the strong succeeded and came into adulthood. Surviving the Chiva gave them the right to try to subdue and mate with females. The Yautja females were bigger and stronger than the males. Passing the trial was no guarantee they would be allowed to mate.

Spying on the solstice festival was not anything that tempted him either. In the beginning of his career as an overseer, Odin enjoyed watching the apes perform their festivities. Sometimes the tribes would indulge in mass orgies of drinking, mating and other debaucheries. Over the centuries it had lost its novelty and he felt like he'd seen it all before. 

This particular tribe raised a giant leaf- and flower wrapped pole on this specific celebration. They drank themselves inebriated and danced in a ring around the giant erect ze'pha. Sometimes the males would whip out their own assets and parade them in front of a female. It was pathetic. Odin's own thumb was thicker and longer than most of their genitals.

As it were, watching apes mate, fight, and stuff their faces had lost its appeal. They were an underdeveloped species. It wasn't that he was too old to enjoy a good pauk, even though he was an Elder, he just preferred females of his own kind rather than watching the soft, hairy, weak females living on the blue planet.

To kill time while he waited for the z'skvy-de to grow into worthy prey, he trained with the sparring robots on the ship and read records that had been stored in the ship's data bank. One was never too old to gain new knowledge.


	2. Chapter 2

**Goshawk's PoV**

The interior of the drop-pod was cramped and almost completely bare. Goshawk’s two chiva brothers sat encapsulated in similar round vessels, plummeting through the sky with the same anticipation, maybe even with a hint of apprehension. The pods were pre-programmed with coordinates to the Chiva location, completely autonomous, from steering to landing. 

As the vessel rushed to meet the solid ground, the momentousness of the upcoming event felt almost overwhelming. The day had finally come, the day he had been training for since he was barely older than a suckling. Hundreds of injuries, thousands of sparring matches, and endless studies about the kiande amedha, the black serpents. It was unbelievable the time was now. Preparing for the Chiva had been his only goal for his entire life.

Goshawk knew his chances. The bloodening trial was a brutal test. About half of the Young Bloods perished. Rarely did the whole party survive and become blooded. Those that failed to kill a serpent were left behind to take their own lives or die of starvation when the Elder overseer sealed the exits to the trial. He knew that fate would not befall him. Failing the Chiva was unthinkable.

The young, brown Yautja with gold markings and amber eyes was bred from a long line of warriors. He came from a small outpost planet in the solar system neighbouring Yautja Prime. He had never actually been to the home world, but that would soon be remedied. Once he passed the test he would apply for a position as Hunter. He would travel the galaxy and hone his skills. One day he might even become an Enforcer like his Sire, helping him hunt down bad bloods and other scum of the universe.

A red strobing light above the locked hatch indicated that impact was imminent. The pod slowed its descent and rolled a few turns before it stopped. The hatch clicked open as the lock released. Goshawk was hanging upside down in his seat straps. He opened the buckle and rolled forward, somersaulting down to stand on the balls of his feet. 

The first thing he heard after disembarking the vessel were birds chirping. Powerful, bright rays of the sun battered the visor of his bio-mask. His thermal netting adjusted to the new temperature. There were tall trees surrounding him and to his left, the other two transport pods opened and his Chiva brothers stepped out.

Their first encounter had been on the clan ship, waiting for the trial to begin. The Young Bloods had only trained together for a couple of days, but already Goshawk had familiarised himself with their fighting techniques. 

The slim, green one, Dart, was fast with his circular, serrated shurikens and wrist blades, but not very tactical or strong. The orange and red one, Viper, preferred to wield the glave or whip, defeating his enemies at range. He was the complete opposite of Dart, who chittered constantly. During their sparring sessions, Viper never spoke a word and after would quickly withdraw to resume his studies.

Goshawk wouldn't miss either of them when they parted ways after the trial, but he wasn't too concerned over their chances in the mountain. They were on par with his own fighting skills even though he was the tallest and heaviest of the three. Goshawk considered himself more skilled than many blooded Yautja despite his young age.

"Goshawk!" The green Young Blood waved his gauntlet and jogged up to him. Dart placed his paw on Goshawk's shoulder and squeezed it, expressing their comradery. "We are finally getting blooded!" The green male was almost dancing, the excitement made it hard for him to stand still.

Goshawk nodded and clasped Dart's shoulder back. 

He noticed Viper already starting to climb a tree to travel the last stretch unnoticed. While the transport pods had been cloaked as soon as they entered the planet's atmosphere, Chiva participants were not equipped with the Yautja cloaking technology. They were therefore instructed to reach their destination unnoticed, especially by the vikings living near Dragon Mountain. Goshawk and Dart followed suit and took to the trees.

The abundant greenery of the leafy canopies worked in their favor, masking their advancement. Jumping from tree to tree with ease, the forest was filled with birches, oaks and aspen trees that camouflaged the Young Bloods. They avoided the thin needle-crowned tree tops of the conifers. It would have been shameful if the apes managed to catch sight of them. Anyone that saw a Yautja would have to be disposed of. Only the priests were allowed to lay eyes on a God.

"Look Goshawk! They have game!" Dart clicked far too loudly at an elk with large, pointed horns. The animal froze and swirled its head towards their tree, staring forward at the trunk below them.

Goshawk grunted and shook his head, noting to himself to never go on a hunting-trip with the loudmouth after they passed the trial.

Dart seemed to care less that he had spooked the animal and continued to prattle on about all the traps he would lay to build up his trophy wall. Viper took the lead and left Goshawk alone with the enthusiastic green youngling.

"Will you be able to keep quiet during the trial?" Goshawk had to ask. If there was one thing that could be their downfall, it was if Dart couldn't keep his mandibles shut during the Chiva. He would alert the kiande amedha to their presence.

Dart looked affronted. "Of course I can," he grumbled. "We are not there yet, are we?"

Goshawk hummed in disbelief, but didn't want to push the issue further. If it was unavoidable he would separate from the group and use Dart as bait, but he hoped it wouldn't be necessary. He had ideas about how he wanted his bloodening to transpire. He wanted to be blooded for his skill, not on the misfortune of others.

Ahead of them, Dragon Mountain rose over the forest like a gravid belly distending from the planet's core. They had only been given a brief description of the mountain before starting the trial. It was impressive to behold, but what lay underneath its green crust was even more massive. It was hiding a vast underground cave system, a labyrinth filled with monsters. The nearby lake had dug up tunnels in the root of the mountain and flooded several sections. The trial location was sealed off to keep the serpents from rampaging the nearby villages. 

The sight made even Dart lose his breath and an ominous silence settled over the trio as they came closer and closer to the colossal landmark.

Odin was waiting for them at the entrance. The only hint of his presence was a barely-noticeable shimmering of the air. The Elder uncloaked himself when he saw the Young Bloods arrive.

"Well met, Unblooded," he greeted them. His impressive form towered even over Goshawk. The younger Yautja became awestruck and forgot to return the greeting 

Odin was a legend among Chiva officiants. Not only had he monitored trials for centuries, but his Sire had been among those who discovered the host capabilities of these apes. Due to these unique hosts, the Chiva had increased in difficulty considerably. Odin also improved on his Sire's legacy. He chose locations that enhanced the serpents inherent abilities to crawl through narrow spaces and issue stealth attacks. 

After an uncomfortable pause, the Elder coughed to startle the Unblooden into responding. Finally, Dart hailed the Elder enthusiastically. Viper simply bowed his head to show respect, his long dreads fell forward over his shoulders and Goshawk managed to finally undazzle himself enough to do the same.

Odin icely regarded them from behind his bio-mask. When the last Young Blood lifted their head, he turned around and pushed aside the boulder covering the opening. 

A net of red laser beams was revealed. The Elder pushed a button on his copper wrist gauntlet, deactivating the seal. The laser net flickered, then disappeared. Extending his arm towards the entrance and bidding them inside, he gave them his final consecration, "May the Black Hunter accept you into his fold."

The three Young Bloods walked past him, one after the other. Dart took the lead, followed by Viper and lastly Goshawk. When they were inside Odin reactivated the seal and rolled back the boulder blocking the opening. Blackness enveloped the males and in the distance, they could hear shrill screeching.

Chiva had begun.


	3. Chapter 3

**Odin's PoV**

The cave labyrinth under Dragon Mountain was fitted with hundreds of cameras. They sent monochrome images continuously to Odin's spaceship.

The legendary overseer settled back in his chair and decreased the number of streams on his monitors to twelve. He had the ability to view the entire mountain in infrared, thermal or electromagnetic vision, but he wanted to focus. Centered on his screen were the three feeds transmitting from the Young Bloods' bio-masks. Their visors were equipped with the same filtering technology as the cameras to help them see in the pitch black interior of the mountain.

Monitoring the Chiva was a crucial part of judging the outcome. To become blooded, a Young Blood had to kill at least one serpent single-handedly. They had to honor the Yautja hunting code and not steal trophies from another hunter or murder their rivals. Energy weapons or acid resistant weapons were forbidden. Odin had scanned the participants with his bio-mask before they were allowed to enter to see exactly which equipment they had brought with them.

From the ship, Odin watched as the trio entered the sacrificial chamber and scanned the room thoroughly. Their bio-masks’ functionalities were purposely limited. Functions which would make the hunt too easy were disabled. Night- and electromagnetic vision remained, but they lacked the advanced tracking capabilities and alert systems of a fully functioning bio-helmet. Without these additions, serpents could easily sneak attack unless the youngster’s natural instincts were sharp. 

Goshawk's feed showed the dead hosts hanging in their restraints. Large, gaping holes marred their chests and on the ground lay several shriveled pki'tle. Odin counted six dead apes, still strapped to the sacrificial pillars. He clicked his mandibles in annoyance. The last body was missing. 

The seventh pillar had been blocking the view from his stationary camera, obscuring the captive strapped on the other side. In the future, he’d double check for blind spots. The last body was likely eaten whole or dragged to a nest. It was uncommon for the kiande amedha to feast on discarded hosts, but not all serpents ate the food that was offered as tribute. They normally preferred living meat. 

He flickered through his monitors, finding only three serpents, but it was natural for them to huddle up in crevasses and corners out of the camera views. The mystery would unravel itself shortly, he was confident of that.

The Young Bloods continued into one of the tunnels. Small pearls of condensation covered every surface. They advanced soundlessly despite the slippery floor, moving stealthily on the balls of their feet. The space was devoid of sound as the screeching had quieted for now. Stopping at a fork in the tunnel, Goshawk clicked to the others and swerved down a different passage as the two other males continued forward.

Odin followed the others in his peripheral frames, but his main focus was on the large, brown and gold Young Blood. The Elder overseer had read all the participants' files before their arrival. He knew that this one came from a little backwater settlement where finding good trainers was like striking a d'lex ore when digging a firepit. Despite his mediocre background the young male had excelled in the sparring ring. Not only that, he was sired from good stock as well, an Elite's pup. Though this was not a guarantee he would stand the heat of battle.

As Goshawk travelled further down the tunnel, the passage began to narrow. Soon he had to duck to fit the cramped burrow. The screech echoed again. It sounded closer this time. Without doubt spurred on by his will to become blooded, Goshawk moved faster, crouching below sharp stalactites, dripping from the ceiling like kiande amedha spit. Sometimes the tunnel became so narrow he had to press himself through it sideways. The agonized shrieks became more frequent the closer to the source he got.

Odin hoped Goshawk remembered from his studies that kiande amedha hunted in packs. They could call out to their siblings for assistance, both vocaly and mentally. He could potentially be walking into a cauldron with all seven serpents. Caution was required.

The vision field of the bio-mask showed no electromagnetic movement as of yet. Odin shifted another monitor to show a camera up ahead. He purred to himself when he saw the movement in one of the chambers. The first opportunity to become blooded had already presented itself, this was going to get interesting.

Goshawk had slowed down his progress considerably due to the difficult environment, but eventually came to a new fork in the tunnel. Another scream coming from the left passage got him into motion. Readying himself for battle, the Young Blood checked that his short ax and ceremonial dagger were still hanging from his belt. He then triggered his serrated arm blade to unfold from his wrist gauntlet. Fully extended it was almost as long as Odin's sword.

Apart from the ceremonial dagger and wrist blades, the Young Bloods were allowed to bring two additional non-energy weapons of their own choice. When Odin scanned them at the entrance their choices had pleased him. They had equipped themselves with weapons complimenting each other. There would likely be need for both ranged and melee style weaponry and to be honest, it gave him some variety when he watched the fights.

The image on the monitor started to move again as Goshawk slipped along the path that led to the chamber on Odin's peripheral screen. The Young Blood must've noticed the serpent in the back of the room because he froze again. His transmission showed the serpent lying on the cave floor, emitting desperate wails now and again. It was apparent by the way the image flickered to every corner of the chamber and its ceiling, that Goshawk was inspecting it carefully before entering. This pleased Odin.

Goshawk snuck into the chamber, careful not to alert the prone serpent. Odin saw on his monitor how a second serpent slowly crawled out from a dark crack in the ceiling above the entryway. It clambered soundlessly over the ceiling and paused behind the oblivious Young Blood. The kiande amedha on the ground was a trap! As Goshawk charged toward the serpent lying on the floor, the second serpent dropped from the ceiling on top of him. The Young Blood was pinned. His weapon clattered as his arm hit the rock and Goshawk barely avoided falling on his own blade.

The beast stabbed out at Goshawk with its thagomizer but struck only ground. The Young Blood had rolled out of the way and was back on his feet in seconds. Near him, the baiting serpent rose to its hind legs and threw back its eyeless tubular head. From its black, slobbery maw the second, inner mouth distended and screeched threateningly. The ambushing serpent tried to claw Goshawk’s stomach open with its talon tipped paw, but the Young Blood was quick to deflect the attack with his right arm. The claw bounced against the flat side of his arm blade. Goshawk pushed the limb away and retreated a couple of steps to gain maneuverability.

Like an ocean whirlpool, the creatures circled him, hissing and swiping their tails. In unison, they lunged, but Goshawk reacted quickly. He threw off the first and punched the other hard in the chest. The serpent spun back, twisting and screeching on the ground.

A spiked tail arched and slashed through his leather chest-plate. Neon green blood splattered the floor and walls. Goshawk kicked out. He heard the snap of the other serpent’s inner jaws as he dodged away into a crouch. He swung his arm blade and sliced off the spines jetting from a beast’s hip bone. While the serpent screeched, its acid blood sprayed out, splattering Goshawk’s exposed chest wound and forearms. His skin began to sizzle and smoke. He howled. 

Goshawk's arm blade was bubbling as well. The tip and razor-sharp edge were liquifying, lost to the kiande amedha's acid blood. Odin knew the weapon would be useless in a matter of seconds. The Young Blood needed to detach it and use his ceremonial dagger instead.

The creatures regrouped and tried to pincer the Young Blood, preparing for another attack. Their tails spiraled behind them menacingly. They whipped them out together, tripping Goshawk’s leg as he launched forward offensively.

He landed hard. The wind was knocked from his lungs. In a heartbeat, a serpent pounced, landing talon’s first into his abdomen. Goshawk tried to throw it off but the creature held firm and hissed. The other plodded forward and circled to stand behind the Young Blood. Crystalline drool dripped on Goshawk’s mask as the second kiande amedha leaned its head slowly over his. The black, bipedal serpent flexed it’s jaw muscles, preparing to snap its inner jaw into his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is the summer solstice on the northern hemisphere. Enjoy the pagan festivities and stay safe!

**Omma's PoV**

Omma felt a chill in her bones that reminded her of winter. However, not even the most sun-deprived places in Miðgarðr could hold such rawness. The only place she could think of was the ice-kingdom _Niflheimr_ somewhere up north. Omma guessed that in mere hours the moist cold would slow down her blood and her body would grow numb. She would fall asleep here on her perch, a shallow crack high up in the wall she crawled into for safety. This place was a tomb, but the tranquility of death eluded her.

The skittering of claws and grating screeches coming from the dragons had grown quiet. It couldn't be anything less than dragons chasing her. She had always been gifted with sharp hearing and night vision. An owl, the other villagers had called her. They named her other things too. It wasn't a coincidence she had been chosen as blót. The tribe leader's brother, Bjǫrn, hated her.

The underground cave system was too dark, even for her owl eyes. She had been there for days perhaps but only adjusted enough to see blurry contours of her surroundings. 

The young woman had woken up strapped to a rock with her arms tied behind her back. Her head was throbbing. The space in front of her eyes was pitch black and silent. She wasn't sure if the villagers had buried her alive. There could only be one place as dark and cold, she must already be dead and descended into _Helheimr_. The goddess of death was looking for the midsummer sacrifices and had sent creatures to devour them.

Perhaps it was the stale air that bothered her but there was also another scent, something sickeningly sweet and unsettling. She could also sense the presence of the others, but they weren't breathing normally. Their sleep was too deep and quiet to be natural. Omma was not alone down in Helheimr. It should be a comfort, but it was not, it scared her senseless.

A squelching noise came from somewhere in front of her. It sounded like someone had stuck their hand in gruel and squeezed. It almost made her heart stop. She held her breath as something slithered by her ankle. Omma felt the panic rise in her throat, but she couldn't make a sound. The unwelcome touch withdrew and the space was quiet again.

Omma waited fastened to her rock for a long time. She was cold and thirsty. A squishy plop echoed from somewhere near, as if something fleshy had fallen to the floor. Then came another and another... After that, familiar voices began to call for help, Alvar, Folke, then Truls. More voices competed to shout the loudest, Helge, Runa, Sune.

Omma was the only one that kept quiet. The others were outcast too, but they all hated her, always had. Runa was the mother of Bjǫrn's wife. She was old and sickly and would have dived from the cliff on Drekfjell come summer's end, same with her cousin, Sune.

The last time she saw Folke in the village he was dying. He had hardly been able to draw breath without coughing, his skin had been a grey, pasty color and his eyes hollow and sunken in. He was now panting and wheezing close to where Omma was bound, crying for his wife between coughing fits.

Helge and Truls were thieves coming from another village to steal cattle. The chieftain had decided to spare their lives a few days before midsummer because the blót was near and they needed sacrifices. 

Alvar… he scared her. Too long had the village turned a blind eye to his doings. He was a formidable warrior, but when he took the blacksmith's nine year old daughter by force he went too far. Three men had to hold down the blacksmith when he found out. Sentries were posted outside the hall that held prisoners to make sure Alvar survived long enough for the blót.

The details of her own capture were blurry. She had brought in water from the nearby brook and gone to the woods to pick nettles for a soup. When she had been ready to return home Bjǫrn had showed up. Omma tried to run from the wiry and hawk-nosed man as she had tried many times before, but his legs were long and his steps swift. He caught her by her shoulders and swinged his fist. The next moment she had woken up in the darkness, shivering. Omma wasn't a fool, she knew immediately that Bjǫrn had followed through with his threat of sacrificing her in the blót. 

The calls for help were interrupted by a hacking noise. One by one the screams died down and were replaced by choking sounds. There was a sudden snap of bones breaking. Sharp gasps for breath. It sounded like someone threw up. Soon the rest of the sacrifices were writhing and choking the same. The rustle of their linen tunics when they struggled became an eerie beat accompanying the gurgling cries and cracking bones. Wet, carnal noises echoed in the space, as if hungry beasts were filling their bellies with the flesh of her kin. When the horrible sounds grew quiet they were replaced by shrill, metallic screeches. 

Omma's heart tried to leap from her chest. Clattering as if coming from tiny claws echoed off the walls. Her only thought was; _please don't come near me!_

But as quickly as the horrors in the dark had begun, they were over. The space was once again silent as a grave. Omma could sense that something terrible had happened. She was alone now. Perhaps they weren't in Helheimr after all, because the dead couldn't die again, could they?

Omma moved her hands frantically to loosen the ropes restraining her. It took ages and was so painful, she wept fitfully until the knot finally loosened. She almost fell to the floor from exhaustion when she freed herself.

On wobbly, bare feet she walked blindly forward in the darkness and found a wall. Omma placed her hands on the moist, cool rock and followed it. She had no idea where it would lead her, perhaps to the edge of the underworld. She hoped to reach a lake or river, even if it was the sword and dagger filled _Slíðr._ Thirst tickled her throat and she strained her ears for the sound of water. She walked for what felt like an eternity, even licked the walls to absorb some moisture.

She reached a crossroads, one of many, yet she could sense something about it was different. A dark foreboding came over her as she debated which way to take. There was danger up ahead. One of the tunnels would lead to the horrors of goddess _Hel_ and the other would lead down to the nest of the world eater. She turned around and backtracked, stumbling and slipping on the wet bedrock. Tears started to wet her cheeks again. If only Bjǫrn had left her alone, she would still be alive and feel the warm rays of the sun on her skin.

Blinking the tears away, Omma continued to walk back through the tunnel. Despair would not be her companion. She had endured worse. Lifting her chin up, she strained her vision in the dark. Further up the tunnel something caught her attention. Omma stopped in her tracks. She could hear nothing but her own breathing, yet there was something up ahead. It had moved but was now standing still. 

Prey. She felt like she was being watched by a predator. One of Hel's monsters had found her. She started to back away slowly, keeping her blue eyes fixed on the darkness in front of her. The shadows before her rippled. It was coming closer! 

Omma could hear the faint tap of claws on rock. It was subtle, but unmistakable. The sweet, curious odor she had smelled in the cave she woke up in was back. Turning around suddenly she sprinted down the corridor back to the crossroads. Behind her came a screech and the dragon was thundering after her. Omma didn't stand a chance against it's speed, she knew this. Her only hope was to find a place to hide - _quickly!_

She bolted down the first path, having no idea if this was the tunnel to Hel or to the world eater, _Níðhöggr._

The dragon was at her heels, it surprised her that it hadn't caught up with her yet. It was almost as if it was herding her. There was no time to explore the thought further. She reached a chamber and stopped abruptly. In front of her the darkness twisted and she felt the presence of another one. It hissed like a snake. Omma screamed. 

She threw herself on the tunnel’s sloped walls. Clambering up the rock, she tried desperately to get away. Her hands caught a hole that spread into a wide crack. She wiggled frantically into the narrow crevice. Something hard and sharp lashed at her leg. Warm liquid trickled down her calf. _Blood_. Omma crawled in further until it became too tight to continue. She closed her eyes and chanted; _go away, go away, go away..._

Now all she dared to do was stay in her hiding place until she perished of hunger and thirst. Hel was a cruel goddess to let her suffer like this even in death. Omma cursed her name. She wanted to spit in her decaying beautiful face when the creatures brought her to Hel's throne room. Before they tore her limb from limb she would defy the evil crone. 

Her bleak prospects ate away at her as she sat in the hole and waited. The cut on her leg was deep enough to continuously leak blood. It had soaked the hem of her plain, grey dress and was dripping down over her foot. Too apathetic to care, Omma let it seep. The hunger and thirst that raked her was even more tormenting when she couldn't move. The tales about the never ending famine in Helheimr had been true. She would feel this miserable until winter came trice and _Ragnarǫk_ brought down all nine worlds into the ocean. It was unbearable!

Omma sat huddled up and contemplated ways to end her existence. Throwing herself off a height or into some underground lake would only make her wake up in the same horrid place. Either way, those weren’t options because she never came across any lake or river while she wandered the tunnels. The only solution she kept revisiting was the dragons themselves. They could easily devour her and if she found a sharp piece of rock it could be considered falling honorably in battle. She might even end up in _Valhöll_ instead of Helheimr. 

There had been sharp spikes hanging from the ceiling and floor near the last tunnel fork. She had nearly gotten herself impaled on them as she walked around blindly. The mere thought of trying to fight one of the dragons twisted her stomach in knots. Staying completely still for a few more moments, she waited for her racing heart to calm down. Once it was decided she felt oddly serene, like a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Strengthened by her belief of making the right choice or perhaps driven mad by fear and thirst, Omma climbed out from her hole and jumped down on the ground. 

She turned around and started to backtrack to where she had felt the spikes. When she came near the spot where the first dragon appeared, something coming from behind coiled around her neck. Omma tried to scream but her windpipe was almost crushed. She was lifted up until her feet were dangling in the air! Her hands flew up to her throat and she tried to bend and claw away the thing holding her. She felt fingers and knuckles grasping her, a thick burly arm was attached to the hand. It was enormous! There could only be one creature with such stature. She had been caught by a _hrímþurs_ , a frost giant… _Freyja help her!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Dart's PoV**

"Viper!" The female was choking in Dart's grip, kicking the air and pulling fruitlessly at his fingers. He looked back over his shoulder and called once more for his Chiva brother, "VIPER!"

The orange and red Young Blood appeared in the tunnel behind him, his glaive was extended in a protective stance. Viper stopped, staring at Dart and the small creature he held by the throat.

"I don't know what to do Viper," Dart whined and pushed his arm further out as if he was holding something infectious. "Should I kill it?"

Viper clicked his mandibles behind the mask. "We can't," he replied tersely, "that would make us Bad Bloods."

Dart stared at him motionless before he opened his paw and dropped the female. She fell to the floor in a heap, coughing and clutching her throat.

The Young Bloods observed the pitiful creature on the floor. "Do you think it has one inside its chest?" Dart asked and took a step back. "I don't see any movement behind the ribs."

"Perhaps…" Viper replied. "It could be too small to spot."

"Should we take it with us then?" Dart wondered. "I don't think killing a newborn kiande amedha counts."

"Better kill it as soon as it births," Viper said, resting the tip of the glaive on the ground, "before it becomes a threat."

"Right," Dart agreed. "We have no other choice than to take it with us."

The female on the floor stopped coughing and started to back away on hands and knees. Wide eyes searched the darkness, but were evidently not able to spot the Young Bloods even though they were uncloaked.

"I don't think it sees us," Dart chirped and sidestepped to settle himself behind the female. She was caught between the two of them with no means to escape as she continued to crawl backwards until she hit Dart's legs. A frightened gasp came from her strange mouth and she froze stiff. 

"Let it run, Dart," Viper sighed and shook his head. "We can still follow it and kill all the serpents it attracts."

"Oh," Dart exclaimed and moved to the side of the tunnel. 

The small female didn't move at first. She was shivering. Dart could see in his bio-mask that her core temperature was too low. Without thermal netting she would eventually freeze to death, if the serpent inside her ribcage didn't kill her.

"Move!" Viper growled at the female.

Dart doubted she understood yautja but it broke her transfixion. The female got up on her feet and took off. Her progression was slow as she dragged her tiny pale hands along the walls and slipped forward on the wet rock.

They followed her through the tunnels without making a sound. It was apparent that the female had no idea she was being followed. She was soon plodding along aimlessly.

The mountain was a true labyrinth. Its tunnels twisted and forked so many times Dart lost his bearings. Hopefully Viper would remember the way back once all the serpents were killed. Dart observed the female curiously as she clung to the walls, stumbling forward and tripping over loose rocks. She had a wound on her leg that had been left unattended. The metallic scent of the blood would draw the kiande amedha to them. Dart clutched one of his disc-shaped, serrated shurikens harder in his paw, ready to throw it if a serpent were to appear behind a corner. Once in the air it would unfold into a spinning six-bladed, circular razor. A single hit would be fatal. Goshawk had probably already killed at least one of the creatures. Dart felt an urgency to kill one too before the kiande amedha were all slaughtered by the larger male.

The female stopped in the middle of the tunnel. Dart listened and focused, trying to understand why she didn't move further. He couldn't hear as much as a tick of a claw. Suddenly she spun around and ran back, bumping right into Viper. She gripped his belt with her clawless hands. It looked like she was trying to scale his front, Viper stiffened uncomfortably. 

He was about to pry her off when a tapping noise came from the tunnel up ahead. Dart whisked past the others with his shuriken ready. He charged forward towards the sound. 

The tunnel twisted and started to slope downwards. It became narrower until he had to tuck away his weapon to be able to crawl through. It would be a challenge to use his long range shurikens underground. The tunnel ended in a sleek granite wall. Dart could still hear the noises. They were coming from a hole in the floor, another passage down into the bowels of Dragon Mountain. 

Viper and the female had fallen behind. Dart wasn't one to wait. He checked that his gear was fastened properly to his belt and lowered his legs down the hole. It was a tight fit but he could scale it down with his back against the wall and feet bracing the other side. It was slow and tedious, but doable. The sounds had stopped, he could barely smell the sweet, putrid odor of rotting meat. The kiande amedha metabolism was extraordinarily fast and they had to eat constantly to grow into their prime.

He reached the end of the hole in a manner of minutes. The last stretch was a drop ten times his height, he could spot the rippling of water when he looked down between his knees. Climbing back up would be an ordeal in itself, hopefully he'd find another way back to Viper. Dart let his legs slide down from the wall and dropped. 

He landed in a cold lagoon. It only reached his knees but it was still unpleasant. Encircling the shallow lake was a large cavern with stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Wide veins of pyrite made the walls glitter. The smell was stronger down in the cave, it was making his scent-buds prickle. His visor didn't show a single electromagnetic signature as he scanned the surroundings.

A loud splash coming from behind made him whip around. He was not even half-way turned when the cave seemed to flip and he hit the water head first. His calves stung. Sharp talons spliced his metal cuirass. If not for the armor covering his back, his spine would've been severed in multiple places. He lifted his head over the surface and gasped. Dart threw himself to the side and barely evaded a set of snapping jaws. He was lying on his back in the shallow water, scrambling backwards to avoid the attacking kiande amedha. 

Suddenly Dart plummeted. He had crawled off a shelf into the deep end of the lake. The serpent dove after him and smacked him in the chest, sending him deeper into the pool. Dart backpaddled under water but the kiande amedha was a superior swimmer and it had the advantage to pursue him upright. It managed to bite his arm. Green blood turned the water murky. Dart extended his wristblade and punched the serpent in the chest. The water resistance worked to his disadvantage and the slash only nicked a rib.

It thrashed and clawed at Dart, cutting up his thigh as he swam up to the surface again. Dart kicked the serpent's tubular head on the way up and started to swim to shore. The serpent came after him and closed the distance. He managed to heave himself up on the rock when another attack was aimed at his legs. Dart rolled to the side and slashed with his wristblade. Acid blood spattered into the water, causing it to sizzle. 

One of the serpent's arms was hanging limply by a tendon. It shrilled. The wristblade started to smoke and corrode. Dart unhooked it from the gauntlet in time to deflect a blow from its fanning tail. He dashed to the side when the spiked end lashed out again. He jumped back behind a thick stalagmite that took the bulk of the hit when the kiande amedha charged forward. It lost its balance and slid past the Young Blood. 

Recognizing his chance to finally end the struggle, Dart unhooked a flat shuriken from his belt and threw it at the serpent. The weapon unfurled and rotated past the creature as it jumped high in the air. Dart danced to the side and let the serpent pounce on empty ground. He ran back and caught the flying disc on its return. As soon as it docked into his gauntlet he threw it again. Not even a hiss came from the serpent as the disc severed its neck. Yellow blood sprayed from the opened throat as the head fell to the ground and rolled into the water. Seconds later the rest of the body collapsed. The disc came back melting. Ruined. 

It wasn't until he picked up the head from the lagoon and cut off the inner mouth with his ceremonial dagger, that he noticed how high on adrenaline he was. His hearts were still thundering in his chest when he roared out his victory. The appendage was tucked into his belt and he scanned the cave again apprehensively. It appeared to be empty. He was now blooded, but how would he get back to Viper and the female...


	6. Chapter 6

**Viper's PoV**

She was clinging to his netting with tiny, yet strong hands, pressing herself far too close to his liking. Viper pushed the mangy creature away until she let go and fell to the ground. When she landed, she hit hard and wailed. 

Viper clutched his glaive tighter and whipped his head around to look for serpents. They were still alone in the tunnel. He contemplated going after Dart but that would mean letting the female go. He couldn't carry her and fight at the same time. Dart was on his own. It was a trial, after all, if he failed to fend for himself he deserved death.

The female rose and stumbled towards him. He had to pry her hands off and push her away again. She must be very feeble minded, thinking he would protect her from the kiande amedha. Viper started to sift through the phrases in his mask to tell her she was nothing but bait, but his impatience got the better of him and he cancelled the search. Trying to communicate with a lesser species was a waste of time. Instead he raised his glaive and poked her stomach with the sharp tip. 

"Run," he growled in yautja. When she failed to respond he hissed and pressed the blade harder. It cut through her thin cloth armor, piercing her skin. She jumped back, yipping like a hound. Viper found the word in her language and played it for her, this time she would understand, "RUN!"

The female started to sob but she clearly understood and followed his command. She was even slower than before, stumbling and cutting her knees open on the hard granite. Her nose was leaking as excessively as her eyes, so much that she only broke her sobs with the occasional wet sniff as she ran forward. Her hands dragged against the walls, she was putting her weight on it to steady her shaking legs. The tunnel forked and after a right-angled bend she screamed. 

Viper quickened his step to catch up but he was too late. Her scream’s echo receded as she slipped down a hole. She had failed to spot the crack in the floor. He could still hear her faint sobs from where she landed when he focused. Alive then. The crack was too narrow for him to fit and go after her. He had to find another way to get there.

Having no other option, Viper continued to follow the tunnel. It was running in the wrong direction, heading upwards. He wasn't really sure why he was trying to find her again. It would make more sense to go back and try to find Dart instead, but he didn't know which way the green Young Blood had taken. In any case, if Dart had found a serpent, it was probably already dead. 

After about half an hour of walking he was ready to end the search and head back. The moment he decided to give up and turn around, his visor registered an abysmal hole in the floor up ahead. It was considerably wider than the one the female had fallen into. This one could fit him properly as far as he could tell, but Viper had no intention of gliding down the slide and risk cutting himself to shreds.

He felt his belt until he found it, a grappling hook tied to a long rope. Viper secured it to the side of the hole and threw down the rope. Climbing would be safer. 

He wrapped his paws around the rope and pulled to make sure it was properly fastened. Then he started to climb down. The chute was longer than his initial readings revealed. It started with a gradual angle, but the further in he got, it started to slope sharply. Viper was thankful for his decision to use the rope instead of throwing himself carelessly into the hole.

The slide ended in another passage. This one was cramped and Viper had to crawl in the direction he believed would take him back to where the female disappeared. The rope hanging down from the hole would be a good mark if he needed to turn back. The walls constricted him and he cut the back of his thigh on a sharp ridge as he wormed himself down the tunnel. He regretted the decision to follow her now, it was a stupid mistake. He always backed off too late on bad ideas.

It was just like the time when he was a young pup and had followed his friends to a lake. He was the only one that hadn't learned to swim yet, but he was too proud to admit it. When the others had jumped off the cliff into the water he had done it too, thinking he would learn to do it once in the water. He had almost drowned. If his bearer hadn't come at the right moment and jumped in after him… he shook away the thought. It was in the past, the only thing he needed to focus on now was to find a serpent and kill it. Just one measly serpent.

Further down the tunnel he could hear faint noises. They got louder as he closed in on the source. It soon became clear that it was the sound of the female sobbing. He had found her! 

The tunnel ended in a steep fall into a cave. He peeked out from the hole which was close to the ceiling. Below him the female was stuck in sticky, kiande amedha resin. One of the serpents was sitting on its hind legs in front of her as she struggled in the crystalline goop. It covered her entire lower body up to her stomach and her arms were stuck to the wall. Her head was resting limply on her chest, but the continuous crying told Viper she was awake.

He searched the cave with his electromagnetic vision but the only living things inside the cavern were the female and the serpent guarding her. Viper deemed it easy to kill because it was alone and focused on its captive. 

He slipped down the wall and landed softly on his feet, claws raised. When his glaive unfolded, the metallic whir would alert the creature to his presence. He needed to wait until he was right behind it before pulling the glaive out from the holster.

He snuck behind it and reached for his weapon. The grating noise when the glaive extended made the serpent whip around. It blocked his first swing with its lifted tail. Viper jumped back and thrusted towards its midsection. The serpent evaded and lashed with its thagomizer. His glaive fell to the ground. The kiande amedha hissed and stalked towards Viper. 

He had the composure to uncoil the whip hanging from his belt as he slowly backed away from the serpent. It screeched and charged. He stepped to the side and flung the whip over its back as it ran past. The thin, segmented, metal length twisted around one of its broad back-spikes. It didn't break like he anticipated. The serpent tugged the chord and made him lose his balance, falling flat on his chest. It came back and jumped on his back, digging its talons into his hide.

Viper closed his eyes and said a short, silent prayer to Cetanu. He had lost, but the death blow never came. Instead the heavy weight on his spine disappeared and he could roll over in time to see the serpent dive into a pool of water at the corner of the cave. It didn't come back up.

He sprinted to the edge and screened the water. It was deep, a tunnel could be discerned underneath the surface. He wanted to follow the kiande amedha and kill it, but there was an issue. He never learned how to swim. Not even his bearer knew. He had been good at avoiding water and hiding his phobia. Too good it would seem.

The sobbing had now stopped and the female was quiet. Viper couldn't decide if he should let her stay in her sticky prison and wait for the serpent to come back, or if he should free her and take her back up to where they lost Dart. In the end he decided on a third option. He picked up his discarded weapons and cut the viscous, crystalline strands holding her. The female whimpered and clung to his body. She was cold, her pulse unnaturally slow. Viper picked her up and moved her to the edge of the water. He scooped up some of it in his paw and held it to her mouth. "Drink," he commanded and made sure she got every drop from his makeshift bowl. 

After draining his water she found the puddle herself and drank greedily from it. Viper looked at her shredded knees and bleeding calf. The wounds would fester if someone didn't take care of them. He shook his head and sighed. Why was it always him that got mixed up in situations like these. He opened his rudimentary medikit and took out an antiseptic. It would stop the bleeding and clean the wounds. She flinched when he applied the cream but stilled when he growled at her. "This doesn't mean I care about you little pest."


	7. Chapter 7

**Odin's PoV**

The serpent's inner mouth launched into the screen of his monitor and left a trail of sticky spit. Odin didn't flinch when the appendage bounced on Goshawk's visor. The Young Blood had turned his head in the nick of time. A single moment was all it took before the creature understood the attack had failed and the young hunter regained the initiative. 

Goshawk reached up and caught the receding mouth. He yanked it, pitching the serpent above his head into the one straddling his chest. With one motion, he gained an opening to roll away from them. 

Odin was amused. He had never before seen such a move. The Young Blood was indeed talented.

Goshawk reached into his holster and pulled out the ceremonial dagger, the only weapon he carried that was acid resistant. One of the creatures recovered and pounced while he was still lying on his back, struggling to rise. He stabbed the creature in the stomach, slashing down. Its gut opened surgically, spilling the innards on the ground with an acid spray of yellow blood. Goshawk barely evaded the cascade by throwing himself to the side. It didn't stop the assault, the creature crashed into the Young Blood and bit him in the shoulder. Another jab with the dagger into its chest ended the rampage. Goshawk pushed away the dead creature and was attacked by the remaining serpent. It struck his arm with its serrated tail, the dagger flew to the side and clattered to the ground.

The serpent lashed its tail again, striking his other arm as he tried to shield his chest wound. The gauntlet splintered, exposing his scales to the jagged skewer. Goshawk howled as his flesh tore, phosphorescent blood sprayed. Drawing back with a hiss, the serpent prepared to jump. It launched into the air, sharp talons extended and ready to tear him to shreds. Goshawk rolled aside, there was never enough time to rise, the attacks kept coming mercilessly. The kiande amedha drooled and slobbered over the ground, forcing the Young Blood to slip around in translucent slime blending with his own blood. 

Odin noticed that the young hunter was losing stamina fast. He needed to stop the bleeding, but before that was possible the remaining serpent had to be slain. It circled the Young Blood and attacked as soon as he tried to counter or gain his balance. The ceremonial dagger was lying on the ground discarded. Odin wondered when Goshawk would remember he was carrying an ax in his belt. He needed a weapon to retaliate.

Goshawk was covered in blood, the rock underneath him was slippery with it. He dodged the slashing tail only to be pursued by snapping, black jaws. The serpent screeched and clawed at his legs. The weak kick he landed on its shin made no difference whatsoever. He whipped his head around, trying desperately to find the dagger. It had slid half-way across the room. Attempting to reach it would be futile.

The serpent charged and slipped in the mucus it had created. It missed Goshawk and slid past him while hissing furiously. The Young Blood got on his knees, inhaled sharply and jumped up to his feet. He spun around in time to dodge another attack. The ax clonked against his thigh. He looked down and slid it from the holster as the thagomizer whooshed over his head. 

The serpent tried to grab his arm but Goshawk had already raised his ax. He brought it down on the limb. A cracking noise echoed through the chamber, followed by a shrill screech. The black, chitin-covered arm fell on the floor and the serpent wobbled backwards, acid gushed from the amputation wound. 

Goshawk roared and charged after it. He blocked the tail that whizzed through the air with the flat end of the ax. Kicking away the remaining arm that clawed after him, he swung the weapon and cut off the other limb too. The serpent wailed. He worked fast with the now sizzling cleaver, the blade would lose its sharpness within moments. With a wide horizontal sweep, Goshawk sliced its chest, the black exoskeleton gaped, exposing the milky, pulsing interior.

The serpent speared its tail forward in a final, desperate thrust. Goshawk dodged the lance and delivered a riposte with his ax, cleaving the creature's upper torso down to the pelvis. The white innards bulged and dropped wetly on the floor. The Young Blood kicked the serpent, making it fall stiffly backwards. 

Goshawk collapsed on the ground, exhausted. His breathing was shallow, but still audible in his mask. Odin turned to Ull who had joined his side to watch the Young Blood fight. Ull clicked his mandibles. "A shame," he commented. "It's always regrettable when they perish right after becoming blooded."

Odin grunted and returned his focus to the monitor. He felt a bit disappointed, having expected better of the large brown and gold Yautja. Hopefully this wasn't going to become one of those Chivas where no one survived. The Young Bloods of today seemed to be growing weaker by the batch. He couldn't remember them being this soft when _he_ was young. Odin sank further into the chair and chuffed. A sound coming from one of the peripheral feeds caught his attention. He centered and expanded the image. It was the other two Young Bloods. They were chittering to each other. In the paw of the green one he could see one of the apes struggle. A cold chill swept through his body. Did one of the apes get past his perimeter? Impossible!

"The seventh sacrifice?" Ull asked and took a seat next to him. 

Odin huffed and immediately pushed the ridiculous notion aside. It wasn't anything he had considered. The seventh sacrifice was dead. He had been an overseer of hundreds of Chivas, not once had the pki'tle spared a host. Even if one of the eggs had been defective the kiande amedha would have killed the survivor. He grasped the armrest of his chair hard. This needed to be rectified at once. If one ape had managed to wander inside, there was no knowing if more could be coming to disturb the Chiva. 

"Keep monitoring," he told Ull and rose forcefully. "I need to take a shuttle down to the mountain."


	8. Chapter 8

**Omma's PoV**

Her legs stung. The frost giant had stopped rubbing them and the ointment he had smeared on her cuts burned. She didn't hear where he went after tending to her. It was obviously a he, the body was nothing but rippling muscles when she had clung to him for warmth. Her stomach cramped from all the icy water she had ingested. The spreading chill made her teeth clatter. Perhaps she would turn into a frost giant herself when she was cold enough…but that wasn't right. He had been warm, hot to the touch even.

Her arms and legs were covered in syrupy goo. It felt like an unpleasant mixture of cobwebs and honey, impossible to wash off. Helplessness flooded her in violent rivulets. If only she could curl into a ball on the floor and let oblivion swallow her. A single loud sob pressed its way up her throat. Omma would have given up if it weren't for a presence in the room. She could sense he was still there, but he kept himself secluded. 

"Why are you pretending not to be here?" Omma cried and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "Make yourself known!"

The only answer was silence. Anger started to simmer in the pit of her stomach. _Fine! Be that way!_ She decided to find a way out of the cave labyrinth by herself. There was still some fight left in her, _Odin give her strength._ Tentatively, Omma started to feel her surroundings to paint a mental image of the place. The cold spring coming from the floor was not longer than her dwelling house. The walls were moist and smooth, encompassing her in an oval space. There were no sharp spikes growing from the floor. She knew nothing of the ceiling, it was too high up to reach. 

When she touched sticky shards of petrified slime, she almost screamed. It clung to her hand, almost as if trying to capture her again. Walking around her former resinous prison, she mapped out the rest of the cave with her hands. Omma had no idea how she got into this chamber to begin with. The chute she had fallen into had ended in a tunnel. There she had been captured by one of the dragons. It had not eaten her as she feared, instead it had spun her into a cocoon like a giant spider and taken her to this cave.

She wished she was taller. Perhaps then there'd be a chance she could find the tunnel leading out. It must be somewhere higher than she can reach. 

If she discovered a way out, found the exit to _Helheimr_ , she would still need to battle the _úlfr_ guarding the _Gnipahellir._ Even with a weapon it would be impossible to pass through the gate without being noticed by the large wolf. She needed an ally, but the only one she could think of to befriend was the silent and grumpy _jǫtunn._ He made no effort to try communicating with her after showing her the pond and healing her wounds. Apart from the occasional word he had spoken to her, his own language was unintelligible, nothing but clicks and animal growls. Omma had no idea if he understood _her,_ but she also had no idea how to become friends with _anyone._

When she was little she remembered trying to approach the other children in the village. The few times she was able to convince someone to play with her, the child was quickly snatched away by a furious mother. She was used to being kicked and spat on. A _stranger,_ they had called her. She knew mother Elna wasn't her birth mother. The old woman was the only one that never hated her, shunned her. How many times had she not wished Elna was her real mother? It took so little to earn the suspicion and hate of the villagers.

Then Bjǫrn had started to talk to her. Brought her gifts. At first she was flattered, even happy to gain the attention of anyone. He was the chieftain's younger brother. Already married, what harm could a little fling do? A lot apparently. 

The innocent walks under the aspens and soft kisses in the moonlight turned into something tarnished. He wanted more and more of her, things that would make her his _hjákonu,_ but he always met her in secret. Never making her his official second wife. When she started to refuse him their love turned sour. He started to beat her, take his pleasures from her whenever he felt like it. She never told anyone why she was afraid to go into the forest. Not even Elna knew. 

Then the baby came. Bjǫrn's and Astrid's. It was a boy, a beautiful baby, but it never opened its eyes. His lungs never filled with air and his mother never heard him cry. The village wisdom told Bjǫrn it was because he had copulated with an enchantress. She had eaten a mushroom and asked the _Nornar. Urðr_ had told the old crone why his seed had been spoiled and _Skuld_ had shown her images of unnatural relations that made her vomit in her bed. There was no need for the wisdom to explain who she saw in her waking dreams, everyone knew.

After the child's death Bjǫrn's abuse increased ten fold. He didn't care if Omma bruised or if anyone could hear her scream. No one helped her anyway because they all believed she was an enchantress. A faery nestled in their midst. Even Elna pretended not to see her wounds or hear her sob through the nights. She kept sending her daughter into the woods to forage, even though she knew perfectly well what awaited her there. 

And now Bjǫrn had kept his promise to sacrifice her, the only vow he ever honored. So what did a short, weak outsider know about befriending anyone? Bitterness washed over her. Omma closed her eyes and sucked in air into her lungs. She needed to see the sky one last time, breathe air that didn't smell like damp rock. That was what she had to focus on. 

"Hrímþurs, show yourself!" She didn't care what she alerted when she shouted. "I know you're there!" Omma was met with more silence. She could feel he was close. Omma wandered the room and pursued someone unseen, but he had an uncanny ability to move away from her soundlessly no matter how fast she moved or feinted. 

It was a pointless game, one she didn't find particularly amusing. If he refused to help her, she would have to help herself. There was one place she hadn't yet explored fully - the water. 

It was freezing cold, but on the other hand, so was she. Her linen tunic was already hanging damply against her body. She shimmied out of it anyway and left it in a pile on the rock. In case she needed something to dry herself with. She had never plunged into deep water before but if horses and dogs could do it, surely a human could as well. 

She clenched her teeth and walked into it. _MOTHER FREYJA,_ it was absolutely horrible! The water reached to her knees and goosebumps erupted all over her skin. The next step never bottomed out. She fell in headlong. Her long, soft hair floated on the surface and was pulled under with the rest of her. 

The shock made her breath in, her lungs filled with water, making her sink even faster. Omma didn't register the pain in her scalp until her head surfaced. She was dragged out of the pool by her hair and deposited on the rock. A rough strike to her back made her lungs contract and expel the water. She coughed uncontrollably.

"Stupid!" The word came at her like a slap in the face. ...Wait. Who said that?

She wheezed for air and tried to smooth the wet strands of hair from her face. Fumbling with her hands on the ground, she encountered a large knee. Further up was a thigh, covered with something peculiarly stringy. 

There was a menacing growl. "Stop that!" The voice was different from before, how many were they? Something large wrapped around her wrist and removed her hand from the thigh. _The frost giant!_ Oddly she felt _relieved._ She must be the first human in ages to feel comfort in the presence of a jǫtunn. 

"You talk." Omma felt a hundred questions bubble in her head. She needed to calm down. Concentrate on what mattered most. "Help me get back home. To find the Gnipahellir."

The frost giant stayed motionless and quiet. She could only hear her own heartbeats thumping in her ears. 

"No."


	9. Chapter 9

**Dart's PoV**

The cave with the lagoon offered no other way out as far as Dart could tell. The hole he dropped down from was not very far up. He could reach it by jumping, but the granite was too hard to grapple, even for his talons. Tearing off a claw would be painful. He'd done it once as a pup and was not too keen on experiencing it again. 

On his belt hung a number of tools beside the newest addition of a limply dangling kiande amedha mouth. He regarded the grappling hook briefly. If he'd taken the time to use it before descending he'd have a rope to climb up now. It was easy to be wise after the event. Dart made a few futile attempts to throw it up the hole but it didn't attach to anything that could hold his weight. 

He had another shuriken that was still operational, a rudimentary medikit and his dagger, but apart from that, no climbing gear he could use to traverse the ceiling to get to the gap. 

Dart cursed and flexed his fingers. He couldn't think of any other solution than to sacrifice his best weapon. He unhooked the remaining shuriken and bent back his arm. With a forceful pitch he hurled the disc up, it unfolded its sharp blades and smacked into the ceiling at the base of the hole. He threw up the grappling hook, making it attach between the edges of the weapon.

Climbing up the rope was easy but he had to prop his foot carefully against the dangerous contraption to wiggle himself into the hole. A slightly jagged ridge became his salvation. He clutched it hard and heaved himself up until his back hit the wall and he could start scaling up the same way he came down. 

Clambering up the hole was far more tiring than going down. Dart cursed his rashness. The dagger was now his only remaining weapon. It was fortunate he already killed one of the serpents. With only a melee weapon, he decided to stay in the background for the rest of the trial. The others could kill the rest of the kiande amedha. He was never any good with using the blade anyway. When he finally emerged from the hole and crawled out on level ground his arms and legs were shaking from exertion. 

Viper wasn't there waiting for him. He felt a bit disappointed. Dart didn't want to wander the cave labyrinth by himself. There could be serpents hiding around every corner, waiting to ambush a lone hunter. Staying put like prey and shaming himself wasn't an option though. Necessity made him move. He started to go back, sooner or later he would find Viper and the female, if not them, then Goshawk. Dart couldn't remember which of the intersections they had parted with the brown and gold Young Blood. He wandered the mountain tunnels aimlessly. 

A lot of the tunnels turned out to be dead ends and Dart had to backtrack, only to realize he couldn't remember which way he had already searched. His sense of direction was worthless. Not due to any particular skill he managed to end up in a passage that smelled like blood. He followed the scent as it grew stronger until he entered a cavern. On the floor lay two dead serpents. He barely took note of the scanner's results, because next to them, sprawled over the bedrock, was his Chiva brother. 

Dart dashed to his side and inspected the bleeding wounds. His arms and leg were lacerated but the most severe cut was the one across his chest. The serpents had torn his plated armor to shreds!

He took out Goshawk's medikit and sealed the larger wounds with clamps. On the smaller ones, he was content with simply smearing on the paste they used to stop blood flow. Inside each kit, Yautja carried a single, stimulant shot to boost their natural healing capability. Dart was sure Goshawk wouldn't mind him using it in such a dire situation. He needed to regain consciousness. Dart uncapped the syringe and plunged the needle into Goshawk's thigh. 

The Young Blood’s spine arced off the ground as the stimulant coursed through his veins. Dart flew backwards to avoid being on the receiving end of the rage that was about to come. Goshawk gasped. The heavy inhale caused his chest to inflate exceedingly. His arms struck out and convulsed from the searing pain. When the spasms seized, he flew up and looked around deliriously. Dart drew back further, caution was necessary even though the other male appeared to be unarmed. 

"It's me!" Dart reassured, trying to calm down the larger male. "You were almost dead. I healed you!"

Goshawk shook his head and grabbed the edges of his bio-mask, almost pulling it off. He was still wound up. The stimulant required a lot of nutrients and oxygen to work and could make it hard to breathe properly. Dart tried to sooth him with soft clicking noises. 

Once Goshawk had calmed down, Dart felt more confident to approach. He took out the trophy he was carrying and showed it to Goshawk. "I killed one!" Dart chittered happily.

Goshawk scanned over his own casualties scattered around the room. "I think I did too," he said to Dart. "Memory's a bit blurry."

"Take your trophies, come on!" Dart urged excitedly, he was practically dancing in place. "We need to find Viper and the female!"

"He's not with you?" Goshawk was still a bit groggy from the blood loss. "What female?"

"Oh..." Dart remembered now. Goshawk didn't have a clue about their find. "We found one of the indigenous species wandering around. It was a _she_."

"Huh?" Goshawk cut off the inner mouth of one of the serpents but paused to look at Dart. He tilted his head in confusion. "Why would there be others in the mountain during the Chiva?"

"I don't know!" Dart gave a clicking chuckle. "Viper thinks she might be carrying a serpent."

Goshawk huffed and fastened the mouthpiece to his belt, he moved on to the other carcass and took his trophy from it as well. "He thinks killing a newborn counts? That's dumb."

"No…" Dart was losing patience. "We're using her as bait. Let her go first and flush out the serpents. Come on, I want to find Viper!"

Goshawk sighed and wiped the residual acid from the mouth on the cadaver. "I only have the ceremonial dagger. The rest of my weapons were destroyed by acid."

"So were mine!" Dart clicked. "The more reason not to get ambushed by serpents. Hurry up."

Goshawk sighed even deeper but stashed his second trophy next to the first. He gave the room one last scan before following the green Young Blood out of the cave.

They wandered the stone tunnels with their daggers unsheathed. In a passageway sloping upwards Dart spotted a grappling hook fastened to a rock. He motioned for Goshawk to come and look. The rope disappeared down a wide crack in the granite. Viper must've gone down the hole. They climbed the rope and followed a tunnel. At the end, another wide cave stretched before their bio-masks. There was a body of water and sitting on the edge was Viper. He startled when the other two Young bloods dropped down on the floor. The pale thing he was holding fell to the ground as Viper backed away defensively. 

Dart scanned the lump he had been holding with his mask. It was the female. Her arms and legs were covered in crystallized serpent resin, but apart from that she was undressed.

"Why did you take off her soft armor?" Dart asked curiously and tilted his head to the side.

"I didn't!" Viper blanched and quickly added, "She took it off herself."

Dart's mask told him the female was still breathing, although faintly. Her body temperature was low. His and Goshawk's silence agitated Viper into another array of explanations.

"She fainted from the cold." He murmured sourly. "I only held her to keep her alive. She is still good bait." Viper shot a glance at Dart's and Goshawk's trophies. "I haven't killed one yet."

Goshawk chuffed out loud and earned an icy stare from behind Viper's visor. 

Dart shrugged and kneeled beside the body. He did a more extensive survey with his bio-scanner. She didn't have any fleas or more than the normal parasites all mammals carried, most importantly, nothing foreign moved inside her ribcage. 

Dart ran his talon through the sticky goo covering her arm. "You didn't clean this off?"

Viper didn't answer. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at Dart. After a while of staring at each other, Viper huffed, "You keep her alive then since you know all about it." He stalked as far away from Dart and the female as possible, sat down and started to sharpen his glaive. Goshawk joined him, but couldn't help to cast a glance at Dart and the female before he started to clean his remaining gear.

Dart looked at the female curled up on the ground. She was a sorry excuse for a sentient being. Hardly any muscle tone. The odors she secreted was a salty, slightly pungent smell coming from the pores in her skin, something faintly musky...he didn't want to explore where that came from. All in all, he could probably save her once the hardened saliva covering her arms and parts of her legs was removed.

He started cleaning the sticky spit from her limbs with a solvent in his medikit. Viper must've carried the same ingredients, but deemed it unnecessary to waste it on a non-yautja. 

Once all the resin had been cleaned off he collected her in his lap and held her close to his chest, to transfer as much of his body heat as possible. It felt weird. He wondered if this was how his bearer had carried him when he was a suckling. To warm her up faster, Dart rubbed his paw slowly back and forth over her legs. He noticed that they were sparsely covered with fur. It was soft, like dandelion floss. Dart had always been fascinated by furs and hides. Now that he was blooded he would travel the galaxy, hunt and skin all sorts of animals. He would create a massive bed with all the furs he skinned, lie back on it and stroke them just like he absentmindedly stroked her leg now. If he found a more capable specimen of her race he would definitely have to collect its hide.

The female in his arms stirred. Dart almost dropped her when her large, blue eyes snapped wide open and she inhaled a sharp breath.


	10. Chapter 10

**Omma's PoV**

She should have known it was nothing but a dream. Bjǫrn had been gentle and caring again. Holding her in his arms, fondling her leg with languid strokes. Her eyelids seemed to be made of lead. It was nice to stay in that foggy world between sleep and waking, but something felt off. First of all, Bjǫrn smelled differently. He didn't give off his normal masculine odors of sweat and leather. Secondly, he was bigger. His chest had never been this wide and his hands were certainly not large enough to close around her calf. Her naked bottom rested on something that felt like chainmail, but Bjǫrn didn't wear his _brynja_ unless he was going to war. 

The sum of all those premonitions added up to one thing: _This felt wrong._

Omma woke up with a jerk, but however wide she opened her eyes, her world stayed one of bleak darkness. For a heartbeat she feared that she had gone blind, but then she remembered everything. Helheimr, dragons, the hrímþurs! 

When her body jerked, the large, calloused hands holding her gripped her flesh tighter, pulled her closer. She felt his nails prickle her skin, sharp and long. _Clawlike._ Omma stilled. Every muscle in her body tightened. Her breath left her body in short, hot puffs. _She was feeling warm again!_

Was the frost giant following her? She didn't understand why he saved her from the dragon if he wasn't going to help her. Before falling asleep she distinctly remembered him telling her he wouldn't take her back up to the world of the living. Was she his thrall now?

Before she could ask him, heavy footsteps approached and another pair of rough hands gripped her upper arm and shoulder. A response of growling and clicking came from the frost giant holding her. More of the same unintelligible sounds came from the one that had grabbed her. She quickly realized there was more than one of them. _Freyja!_ Hopefully, they wouldn't tear her apart fighting over her. Omma wasn't sure if frost giants ate people. She had been spared so far but maybe they just hadn't been hungry.

The new hrímþurs seemed to win the argument because the growling stopped and she was pulled up to her feet. Omma barely had time to regain her balance before she was swept up by the waist and thrown over a shoulder plate as if she was nothing but a sack of apples. The frost giant held her by the back of her thighs to keep her from falling off as he started to move.

Too afraid to say a word, Omma found a plate of armor on his back she could hold on to. The hand holding her steady disappeared when he started to climb, only to return again a short moment after finding level ground. It was probably too late to ask for her clothes, but she had to try. Somehow she doubted the frost giant cared about her state of undress, but it had taken her weeks to spin the flax into a coarse cloth and several days to sew the dress. She squirmed in his hold and started to pummel his back with her fists.

"Let me go! Let me go! I need my dress!"

The hrímþurs showed no sign of stopping, her efforts were barely a nuisance to him. Behind them she heard rapid clicking. The other one was following them. Where were they taking her? 

The way he moved changed once more and her legs bumped against cool rock several times. They were climbing again. A long stretch up. She was scared to fall down if she continued to struggle. The fear made her succumb to passivity.

Finally, she was deposited on the floor again. Leaving the warmth of the hrímþurs was both a relief and a discomfort. Alone, she would eventually freeze again. 

A sharp tip poked her bare back. The shallow gash they made on her stomach earlier still stung. Omma didn't want another stab wound from their spear or whatever it was. She started to move, the steps behind her grew quiet, but she was certain the frost giants were still following her.

The tunnel she was moving through sloped upwards. She soon had to crawl on her hands and feet to keep her from sliding down the steep incline. She needed to escape the frost giants again, before they reached their destination. Running was out of the question, they would catch up to her in no time. Climbing up a steep wall was equally pointless. They had already proven themselves to be excellent climbers. Her only hope seemed to be to find another hole to fall down into… Omma shivered.

A shrill shriek made ber stumble to a stop. The noise was faint, but it echoed between the walls, making it hard to discern if it was coming from her front or her back. By now she recognized the call of the dragons. Another screech answered. Omma could almost see them in her mind's eye. Hard, long, made of teeth and claws. They were searching. She could feel it in her bones. The spear prodded her backside again, and it pulled her back to the present. _Forward._

The frost giants were not friendly. They hadn't said a word to her since the first one pulled her up from the water. They were probably taking her to the throne room of goddess Hel or some place even worse. She needed something to defend herself with - _desperately._

Walking as slowly as she dared, she felt the walls for any sign of a side-tunnel or crevasse. If it was narrow enough to barely fit her, the much wider frost giants wouldn't be able to follow her. 

Up ahead she reached a section of the tunnel holding what she was searching for, a thin gap in the rock. She could press her body inside it sideways. It was done in a matter of heartbeats. Upset growling spurred her on to push in further. The sound of a whip cracking after her made her move too fast, she scraped a nipple against a sharp ledge and screamed. _Curse them_ for making her run around the entirety of the underworld unclothed!

Another screech reverberated in the crack, it was louder in the direction she was heading. Of course it was. Moving from one horror to the next, this place was worse than any conceivable nightmare.

The crevasse soon became wider and eventually it flared out into another passage. She could hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing. It was too loud, battering her ears as she strained to pick up more dragon sounds.

It was nothing more than a whisper at first. She couldn't understand it. Breathy rattling and hisses, the language of snakes. It was a terrifying sound that made her heart thrum and her limbs shake, but at the same time it was oddly unthreatening. Beckoning… Coaxing… The final proof that she indeed had gone mad. 

_Áma…_

She stopped and clutched the wall until her knuckles hurt. Something was touching the edges of her consciousness. 

_Queen… Áma…_

It was right there. Asking for entry. Union. _NO!_ She lashed out, the spreading gates she saw in her head slammed shut.

A piercing shriek came from the far side of the tunnel, reaI this time. It made her heart stop. Once it started beating again, cold shivers wracked her entire body and her pulse was lurching through her faster than a baby bird's. She turned around and felt the floor with her hands until she found a section of jagged spikes. They were too thick to break, too heavy to carry, even if she managed to take one. She kicked at each column anyway, until she felt one of them crack and give away. Another kick made it break off and a lance made of tapered limestone, long and thick as her forearm, became her weapon. The rock would have to be enough. 

She held it in front of her like a short sword. 

Another angry, shrill sound echoed, closer this time. It was coming for her. Her instinct told her it was useless to hide. Omma pressed her back against the wall and waited. She had no idea where the crack she came from was, there was no time to find it anyway. Another rattling hiss vibrated through the otherwise quiet passage. 

Her mouth was bone dry and she couldn't settle her heavy, panting breath even if she tried. The dragon was a stone’s throw away from her now. It hissed again, and Omma felt its mind prod one last time. 

"FOR ODIN!"

She threw herself forward, her spike stretched out in front of her. The darkness in the tunnel crystallized into monochrome shadows and she could finally see it! It's emaciated form, human - yet not. The tubular head and the serrated tail, deadlier than any sword she had ever seen. Its maw was opened in a silent shriek, saliva dripped from its long, sharp fangs and inside, she saw another mouth filled with crystalline teeth, more numerous and frightening than those of the fish they used to catch in the big lake flanking Dragon Mountain. 

She was too afraid to think straight. The fury of battle ravaged her blood, painting her vision red. The dragon stood still, frozen in time. Omma charged. Her feet transported her closer, as if they had a mind of their own. Hers was completely blank.

The limestone spear connected with its throat. She continued to run, repelling the dragon. When its back connected with the granite, her pike continued to push until the sharp tip shattered against the wall. The dragon's throat was completely run through. 

The creature fell to the ground, its limp body dragging the makeshift weapon from her hands. 

A sharp trilling cut through the silence around her. Other voices joined in, the noises closing in around her. How much bad luck could one person evoke? _Freyja!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on it gets saucy, take heed.

**Odin's PoV**

The entrance on the south side of the mountain was of course intact. Both boulder and lasernet were still in place. Odin made his way circling around the base to check for hidden passageways. He had to scan for anything that could explain how one of the apes found their way inside.

Dragon Mountain had been formed by subterranean movements in the planet's crust thousands of eons ago. The long, forest covered, fault-block mountain was elliptical in shape and low enough for an ape to scale and cross in a couple of days. A Yautja could circle it in a fraction of that time. The eastern part of the mountain bordered on a vast, grassy plain. This was also where the settlements were located. The west side flanked a large lake, which had eroded several tunnels into the mountainside, creating deep, water-filled caverns. Gaining entry into the labyrinth from the lake tunnels was impossible. They had been sealed with boulders to keep the serpents inside. 

While searching, Odin kept a small image of the Young Bloods' feeds in the periphery of his bio-mask visor. Ull was also sending him updates from the control room in the ship. 

He witnessed Dart's bloodening and how he saved Goshawk from bleeding out. So far, the interference created by the ape hadn't stopped the chiva from progressing, although he was admittedly annoyed when Ull reported that the third Young Blood had been accompanying the intruder instead of hunting the kiande amedha as he should. In his opinion they were wasting valuable time using the ape as bait. There were other means of flushing out serpents than following a weakling.

Feeling confident there were no new, undiscovered passageways into the mountain, Odin decided to use the main entrance to do a quick survey of the ceremonial hall. 

The large, circular cave near the entry smelled of death. Once Chivas were carried out, Odin and Ull went in and disposed of the dead bodies and eggs. Several years later when it was time for another Chiva, the priests had no knowledge of what transpired during the ceremony. They only knew that the sacrificed bodies were never found.

Inside, he counted six dead apes, no different from what he had seen on the monitors. Their chest cavities had been ripped open. The last body was nowhere to be found, but near the seventh pillar he found a dead pki'tle on the cave floor. 

He picked it up and placed it on top of a stone pillar. Carefully, to avoid spurts of its corrosive blood, Odin sliced up the ovarian sack connected to the proboscis with his acid resistant knife. Inside he found the kiande amedha zygote. It had never been implanted. He dissected the rest of the parasite but didn't find anything wrong with it. It looked healthy, except it had died without explanation. In his centuries of Chiva overseeing, Odin had never experienced anything like this. The ropes that should've secured the seventh ape to the pillar hadn't been torn. The knots were still intact. The only way for the ape to have escaped were if she managed to wiggle out of the restraints. He had to admit to himself that he had failed in his duties. In the future he would have to monitor the hatching more carefully. 

He was on his way back to the ship when his comm flashed and Ull's voice came through the bio-mask, "Odin!" His visor switched views into the feed that Ull just sent him. In the footage, the escaped sacrifice thrust a stalactite into one of the serpents. He restarted the clip and played it again on his visor. The kiande amedha stood statue still in front of the female. It was behaving very strangely, showing no signs of attacking or attempting to deflect her assault. For a weak species like hers, to kill a serpent with nothing but a pointy rock was inconceivable. Odin growled irritably, but continued to watch Goshawk's feed.

Dart was the first one to reach her. He swept in and crowded her with his bulk. She screamed like a wounded animal and pounded on him with her fists. Her feeble punches and kicks did nothing to ward him off. Dart grabbed her wrists and pulled her to his chest. He tried to pacify her with his purring, but failed to calm her down.

"What do you want from me!" The female croaked and thrashed in his solid hold. 

Dart had no answer. Odin was certain the green hunter did not know why either. 

"Let me go!" She tried to push him away and stomp his foot, but compared to his stature, she was puny and her weight insignificant.

Dart didn't flinch. He played one of their shared recordings for her. An old female's voice. 

"Calm." 

She froze and peered up at Dart with wide, moist eyes. "Who are you? Those voices…" She licked her dry lips and shook her head. "They are not your real voices, are they?"

"No." Dart answered with another recording. "...Magic."

The female pressed her lips into a thin line and lowered her eyes as she seemed to consider it. "Do you have a name?" She asked him eventually.

Dart gave her his name, but she couldn't repeat the growls and clicks with her fleshy, tuskless mouth. "Call me. Dart," he finally translated. "The others. Goshawk. Viper." Stitching together the recordings came easier for him now.

"I'm Omma…" She breathed. "Please don't repeat my voice back to me." At that point she had stopped fighting him and Dart released her hands. 

"Oo-aa," he tried to imitate her. Omma seemed to appreciate his effort. Odin could even see one of the corners of her mouth curve slightly.

"I… Are you… Frost giants?" She must be stunned, Odin thought. The little fool didn't even have the mind to know she was doomed.

"Hunter. Kill. Hard. Meat." Dart made his best effort to weave the recordings into sentences. "Oo-aa. Brave. Kill. Hard. Meat." 

"The dragons…" She trailed off and rephrased, "The hard meat... You hunt them?"

"Sei-i" Dart answered. "Yes."

Omma chewed her lip while thinking. Suddenly she attacked him again. Punching and scratching him, she roared, "You used me! Cowards!"

Dart made no move to stop her or defend himself. He stood still and received her blows until she exhausted herself and dropped to the ground.

The female sniveled loudly and tilted her face up to him. Dart bent his knees to a squat and patted her head. He tilted his visor down against her hair and drew a deep breath. His paws fumbled on the clasp to his bio-mask. 

"What are you doing? Never take the mask off!" Goshawk moved in on them and hissed at Dart. "There are still serpents alive!"

Dart stopped fidgeting with the fastenings and turned reluctantly to his Chiva brother. "But Goshawk, have you smelled her?" he chirped. "Paya…"

"Never take off your mask. Under any circumstance," Goshawk repeated gravelly.

"But we are blooded... She is blooded…" Dart deliberated. "Don't you think it means something?"

"What?" Goshawk sneered. "She's not a Yautja. You can't seriously be thinking…"

"Hey," Dart said to the female in their language, forgetting she didn't speak it, "touch me again." He placed her tiny hands over his pectoral muscles and held them there. 

"She doesn't understand you Dart," Goshawk chided him. "You need to use the voice recordings."

"Touch. Dart," The voice in the recording commanded her. The sound files were not always accurate but most times they were enough to get the apes to do what Odin wanted. However, Odin never intended them to be used in such a way as Dart did now. It was bordering on abuse.

Omma frowned before her cheeks heated from realization. "You don't want that… I'm not good at it!" She tried to shy away, but Dart held her hands firmly to his chest.

"Sei-i," Dart purred.

Goshawk growled a warning, "Dart…"

Omma stood petrified. Her entire face was flaring warmth. Annoyance churned in Odin's gut. There were still two more serpents somewhere in the tunnels. The trial wasn't over until all kiande amedha had been slain. 

After a long stretch of time during which she was silent, the female closed her eyes and swallowed loudly. She then gathered her courage and pleaded, "Help me get out from Helheimr." 

She gripped his netting with the tips of her fingers and almost whispered, "I'll do whatever you ask of me." Her eyes searched the dark for the place she guessed his face would be. "I swear on my honor."

"Sei-i," Dart purred again, "yes."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Dart." Goshawk clicked nervously.

"I'm keeping it." Dart's reply came quick, without hesitation. 

"Help. Oo-aa." He reassured her.

"On your word and honor, will you take me back up to Miðgarðr after?" Her hands moved to the edges of his shoulder plates. 

"Yes." Came the recording from Dart's mask. "Honor."

The female sighed and slumped in his lap, pressing her forehead into the nook of his neck. "Then I consent." 

Her voice was low but there was no mistaking her words. Odin almost reversed the clip to watch it again. He didn't believe what he just witnessed, but he refrained from doing so, not wanting to miss any important detail. The comm was eerily silent, Odin wondered if Ull was watching too or if the Elder had gone to carry out some other responsibility.

Dart moved her hands to his torso again before purring. The sound increased when she dragged her fingernails over his net-covered chest and down over his abs. In response, Dart slowly traced his talons over the outer side of her thighs, stopping when he reached her knees. At the bend, he captured her legs in his paws and pulled her over his loincloth until she was straddling him. Omma yelped when her naked core made contact with the cool metal.

Dart moved his paws to cover her hips, careful not to pierce the delicate skin with his claws, he only pressed with the pads of his fingers. Omma buried her face in his chest and inhaled his scent.

In Goshawk's visor, Odin could see Viper come into view. His chest rose and fell strenuously as his mask was observing the couple on the floor.

"Unbloods get put on lookout duty," Dart clicked at him.

Viper growled back, but was cut short by Goshawk, who swept in and pulled Omma from Dart's lap. 

"Share!" Goshawk hissed at the green hunter. Although Dart bounced up and rumbled possessively at Goshawk, he didn’t make any attempt to retrieve her.

Goshawk bent down and pressed the visor to her hair. His paws roamed the curve of her spine and delved into the crack of her ass, making Omma cry out startled. He ran a finger through her folds and hissed, "She is too small."

Dart clicked his mandibles behind the mask and circled her navel with his talons. He teased his way down to the fringe of fair hair covering her mound.

Metal clanked and leather rustled when Goshawk dropped his loincloth to the cave floor and bent his knees to press his hips to her backside. He hissed in her ear as he rubbed his rigid length in the cleft between her thighs. The female gasped and grabbed Dart's arms to steady herself. Dart began to purr again as Goshawk drew back his hips only to slam them forward again. He began to rock against her, grinding his cock between the fat of her thighs.

Odin didn't know what to make of it. He had lived long enough to see many Yautja pairs mate, and had sired many sucklings of his own. After spending years hunting on the blue planet, he had also witnessed countless apes copulate. Yet still, he was completely unprepared for this. 

The comm finally flashed again and Ull's voice filled his helmet. "Odin…" he started and cleared his throat before continuing, "Is this in accordance with regulations?"

Odin's eyes narrowed behind the mask and he scoffed, "There are no Chiva regulations covering perversity, Ull."


	12. Chapter 12

**Goshawk's PoV**

She had killed a serpent. The simple truth of that action floored him. All because Viper had failed to capture her as she slipped through a crack in the wall. They found her again in time to see her spear the kiande amedha with nothing but a dripstone. That, if anything, proved that she was worthy prey. The thought of hunting her passed quickly as Dart gave a victory trill. Goshawk joined it almost instinctively until he caught himself and cut the salutation short. She was not one of them, killing their quarry was not her assignment. 

Dart was rambling again. What he and the pyode amedha discussed was of little consequence. Goshawk was more focused on wrapping his mind around how such a weakling could slay a serpent all by herself. Short, brittle and fatty, the female didn't have what it took to kill one, this was certain. Her feeble attempts to subdue Dart were pathetic. Her blunt nails couldn't scratch a scale off any of them, the punches she tried to deal out, absurd. A real female wouldn't give the wiry young hunter a second look, let alone try to fight him to see if he was worth to mate with. Goshawk was positive Dart had no interest in the female. Not even he would lower himself that much…

Goshawk intervened swiftly when he saw that Dart was about to take off his helmet. Sometimes the green male behaved like an ignorant suckling! If it wasn't for the fact that Dart had saved his life, he would have put him in his place properly. His Chiva brother only listened to his warnings fractionally, his behavior was getting more and more infuriating. 

It almost felt like being cast into an alternate reality when a whiff of her sweet and tart scent reached him. It was unmistakable the fragrance was coming from her, but by the gods, he couldn't understand _why!_ How could Dart's immature behavior provoke such a response in her, it was ludicrous. Even more unfathomable was the errant pulse that ran through his own body, tightening his abdominal muscles. It was trickery and sorcery! 

Before Goshawk could stifle his own burgeoning response, another smell mingled with the stale air inside the tunnel. He had never tasted another male's dai-shui up close before, but there was no doubt in his mind that the scent that assaulted his senses was Dart's mating musk. 

The other male's incessant purring and the way the pyode amedha conformed when he pressed her flesh to his body was making Goshawk's blood run hot. It was whizzing in his head and the thrum drowned out all other impressions, until his whole body was pulsing. The smell of their musk settled as a thick cloud around them. Dart was ready to stake his claim, his scent deepened and it was without doubt affecting the female in his lap as well. Her arousal was almost palpable, it clinged to their hides like a sticky film of moisture, pulling Goshawk forward, helpless against its allure. 

A single thought formed in the hazy mist slowly enveloping his mind. He needed to be the first one to seed her. The drive was visceral and surprisingly intense. Goshawk didn't even know if he could impregnate her and if so, what abomination she would conceive, but at that moment it didn't matter. The Yautja genome was strong, he was certain it would surpass anything her ancestry had to offer, perhaps she would even give birth to a fully capable Yautja.

"Share!" His insisting snarl surprised Dart, who made no attempt to hold the female in place when his Chiva brother yanked her up to a stand. Goshawk pressed his front against her back, his visor delved into her tangled mane to earn him a more satisfying fill of her scent. Up close, the fragrance was even more debilitating, it almost made his already bent knees buckle. He had to steel himself not to remove his bio-mask. The need to mesh his tusks in her soft strands was strong. He imagined running his mandibles through her silky skin, burying them in her female parts, and ripping her to shreds. 

Instead of acting out his gory fantasies, he steadied his trembling paw and explored the curve of her spine. His talon mapping out every vertebrae until he reached her sanctum. His finger dug in greedily and found the hole. It was velvety soft, warm, but incredibly tight. Too small to fit any of them. The pyode amedha secreted slime, the amount of it was shocking. It wasn't just in the hole either, the slippery substance that dripped over his finger coated the insides of her thighs as well. He barely registered that Dart had risen and joined them. His need was too strong to be dissuaded by the presence of the other male. The heavy throb in his cock had already stolen whatever reason he had left. His sole existence depended on finding relief.

Goshawk was not surprised to see his shaft had breached the slit of his sheath when he removed his loincloth. His swollen arousal gleamed dark and saturated in the visual field of his helmet. This rarely happened to him, his life before the Chiva had been one of training and study. From the few occasions where inexplicable stiffness had surprised him, he knew that there was only one way to get rid of it. Nature had to take its course, even though that course could sometimes seem quite unnatural.

Goshawk took his engorged length in his paw and pumped it a few times to feel the strangeness of it. He was already leaking from the tip, needlessly self-lubricating for an act that was entirely different than the one his body was made to endure. Attempting to seed a female Yautja was a dangerous endeavor. A hunter needed to be agile and fast in more ways than to simply prove his worth. A sleek entry, followed by an equally smooth exit, might be the difference between siring a suckling or ending up smashed unconscious against the wall. That was what he had heard anyway. 

In front of him her pale, round bottom quivered. A soft, mushy body that seemed to be sculpted for nothing but depravities. The thought of her silky skin, glazed with her aromatic, temperate mucous, sent a zing of delicious pain to his brimming erection. Pauking the space between her legs could be as good as pauking her cunt. It was the less bloodletting option, which had to count for something. He was sure Paya would forgive him.

Prodding himself against the wet crux between her legs, his aching tip was already praising his ingenuity. Bolts of red-hot pleasure surged through him as he pressed forward and coated his shaft in her feminine slick. The startled little noises she made sent pleasant shivers along his spine. He was not hurting her, that much was evident. The slight pressure from her thighs and the yielding fat covering her muscles created a slightly too soft, yet teasingly stimulating sensation, as he moved his hips back and forth against her behind. 

His breath came in stuttering puffs, almost fogging up the inside of his visor before the helmet could compensate for the warm, humid air. The friction her fat thighs gave him was growing more and more unsatisfying with each jerk of his hips. Everytime his groin smacked into her backside, the head of his cock breached her swathing legs and stopped in nothing but air. The disappointment was driving him wild and he was about to throw her on the bedrock and impale her regardless of their physical differences when his frantic thrusts suddenly met resistance. 

Hot flesh was trapping his tip and squeezing it against her soaked core. The sensation was so gratifying he practically melted. Goshawk groaned into his visor while his hips increased the pace. Every thrust was now winding him up tighter. He was reaching the place where the torment would end. Almost there, he turned up his visor from her hair and saw Dart. 

They had the female sandwiched between their much larger bodies. The green male hunched forward, panting harshly, his erection bobbed willingly between his legs. The female took it in her small hands, one on the tip and the other trying to wrap around his shaft. She began to pump him boldly. He was stroking her chest with one paw and the other was lodged between her legs…

Goshawk didn't realize what Dart was doing until it was too late. His vision flickered and temporarily blackened when his abs clenched and the tightening sensation that had been building ever since he caught whiff of her scent, released. He thrust forward with a roar as quick spurts of seed basted the cradling paw on the other side. Dart made a whimpering noise and stilled as well. His ejaculation spattered the pyode amedha who stopped and gasped as she was marked by both males.

Dart began to purr as soon as he regained control over his breath, his paws smeared their semen over the female's belly and soft chest. Goshawk was too spent to purr. Cetanu take him, but he could not do it. Once the vile act had been driven out of his system, nothing but shame remained. They had pauked an animal… And how much of the pleasure could be contributed to Dart’s paw? Goshawk felt nausea bubble in the pit of his stomach. Then he remembered that the overseers had monitors tapped into the feed of their bio-masks. The realization struck him in the gut like a combistick. The brown and gold male doubled over and retched. Luckily his stomach was empty because nothing came out and the visual field of his mask was still crystal clear.


	13. Chapter 13

**Viper's PoV**

As soon as Viper realized that Dart and Goshawk were going to mate with the female, he turned around and retraced his steps through the tunnel. The other males were acting irrationally. It was as if the female had cast some spell on his Chiva brothers, making them forget why they were dropped off on this planet. Dart irritated him the most. The green hunter wasn't amusing with his 'put the Unblood on lookout duty' quip. In fact, Dart was never amusing. No one knew better than Viper himself that he had yet to kill a serpent. There were only two left, two chances before his life was forfeit. He didn’t need anyone reminding him!

He wasn't looking out for either of them. His responsibility was to the hunt before him. If they were willing to let their guards down and the remaining serpents attacked, it was their choice. 

He stopped and listened at every bend and spilt in the passage, searching with his electro-magnetic sight. The weight of the glaive was perfectly balanced in his paws. Viper wondered if the kiande amedha that almost killed him was still alive. He wanted a re-match. 

However, the quiet search wasn't engaging enough to keep his thoughts from drifting back to the female. Omma, she had called herself. An animal didn't need a name. It was better he stashed it away into the recesses of his mind until she was completely forgotten. It would make things easier, because they needed to get rid of her, at least let her fend for herself to the best of her abilities. The female had already proved that she wasn't helpless. She was a distraction. To his blooded brothers mostly, but also to himself. Viper couldn't afford to be distracted. The fact that he was thinking about her now, when he should be concentrating on finding the remaining serpents annoyed him. 

Viper stopped and leaned heavily on one of the stone walls. He had only encountered serpents twice, both times had been when he was with _her._ It was unlikely he would find one by himself. They would be where the soft meat was. He growled angrily.

He had fled like a coward. Standing beside, watching Dart and Goshawk copulate with the female... He couldn't bring himself to stay. Her scent had permeated his tongue until he could taste her. He didn't trust himself to have the willpower to abstain and though he was uncertain whether the others were allowed to mate before officially completing the Chiva, there was no doubt that he, as an Unblood, wasn't. 

He shook his head to purge himself of the maddening thoughts. He needed to focus on what was important! 

Walking back to the others took longer than leaving. There was a reluctance to his steps that he tried to disregard, but he wasn't quite successful. What if he was caught in her tantalizing web once he reunited with the group? Danger seemed to crawl up on him whichever path he chose. He was still undecided about what would be worse, risk falling under some abnormal influence or risk not finding a serpent to kill… No, he had made his choice when he turned back. Now he could only steel himself to keep his honor.

To Viper's great relief they seemed to be done when he found them again. The smell of mating still lingered in the tunnel, but the way Dart was clutching the female's lithe body to his chest, seemed tranquil.

Goshawk was standing a good distance away from them, his mask facing into the darkness of the tunnel ahead. When he noticed Viper, he tilted his head to the side slightly and scanned the Unblood up and down.

"I thought we'd have to move forward without you," the brown and gold male clicked sharply, but relaxed his grip on the ceremonial dagger.

Viper didn't answer him. He turned to Dart and tried to ignore the flare of irritation that shot through his body when he saw them curled up together. 

"Get her up and moving. We need to find the remaining serpents." Viper thought he did a decent job keeping his voice neutral. Unfortunately, by the way Dart's body stiffened in response, he realized that was perhaps not the case.

"We're not using Omma as bait," Dart snapped back. When Viper responded with a low menacing growl, Dart pulled the female closer to his body. 

"I made a promise. On my honor," Dart’s affronted tone made it clear there was going to be an exhausting argument if Viper pushed the issue. Viper didn't have the time or the energy to fight with Dart.

More annoyed than ever, Viper moved past Goshawk and kept his visor turned forward. He could hear metal rustle as Dart rose, followed by the pitter patter of unstealthy feet. The female was following right behind Viper, he had no doubt Dart and Goshawk were as well.

This passage stretched forward without any intersections, changes in altitude or direction. The walk seemed endless, and the only sign of life he could register was the Omma’s loud breathing behind him.

It was a tedious trek, but also simple, until they reached a part of the tunnel where the ceiling had collapsed, blocking their path. There was a small space between two boulders, wide enough to maybe fit the female, but too small to allow the hunters to pass. 

"Looks like the other side is clear," Dart chirped and pulled out his head from the hole.

"I'm not going back." Goshawk joined Dart and tried to lift the boulder cautiously. "Help me lift, Dart."

The green male grabbed the other side and they heaved simultaneously. The rock moved a few paw's lengths, but they could only hold it temporarily before the weight became too much. It fell down again with a loud crack.

"We need to support it," Goshawk clicked and looked around for something suitable, but the other rocks were either too small and unstable or too big to fit.

His eyes settled on Viper's Glaive. "Give me your weapon."

"Why?" Viper's eyes narrowed behind his mask.

"Just watch." Goshawk stretched his arm towards Viper and took the glaive from his holster.

He pressed a hidden switch, triggering the mechanism that retracted the weapon to a size slightly shorter than his forearm, the sharp blades on the ends retreated inside the cylinder. 

When he was done he inspected the metal tube and instructed Viper. "Go help Dart lift."

Viper lumbered over reluctantly but did as he was told. When they had finally lifted it enough, Goshawk pinned the rod between the rocks. The brace stood firm and the opening was now big enough for all of them.

"Don't look at me like that," Goshawk sighed. "I'll get it back for you. Move along."

Dart was first. He took the female and pushed her through, following closely behind. Viper went next. When it was Goshawk's turn he backed inside with his feet first. Almost on the other side, he pulled the support stick swiftly. The boulder smashed down, a hair's breadth from crushing his paw. Clicking with laughter, Goshawk handed the rod back to Viper, who expanded the glaive and put it back in his holster.

Further up ahead, Viper suddenly discerned an opening to a larger cave. When they finally reached the open chamber, Viper had to stop. The floor abruptly ended in a steep drop. Below them, he saw an underground river, so large and wide, he could only stare at the coursing mass of water.

Goshawk shoved him to the side and leaned over the edge to get a better look.

"It's not too far down and the water is moving slow enough. We should jump." He pointed to the other side of the river. 

"There's a crack in the wall on the other side, see?" Goshawk didn't pause to wait for a reply. "We should be able to continue from there."

"We can't be certain of that," Viper groused. "The safest option is to go back and take another route. We don't even know where the remaining serpents are, this mountain is colossal." He felt his anxiety build and by the way Goshawk shifted his body weight and continued to scan the cave, it was apparent his protest went by unnoticed.

"We're not going back, Viper. It would take forever with the collapsed ceiling and never ending tunnel, besides," Goshawk pointed to a column near the opening further into the cave. "I think that web of organic matter attached to the pillar is kiande amedha resin."

Viper made a scan of his own and picked up the stringy glob of drool. The larger male was probably right. It made him feel absolutely despicable. He couldn't jump into the river below! He would drown, or even worse, the others would have to rescue him when they found out he couldn’t swim.

Dart caught up and peeked past Goshawk's shoulder. He clicked excitedly, "I think we should jump. I'll make sure Omma doesn't drown." 

Goshawk nodded and stepped a few paces back before lunging himself off the ledge. He made contact with the water with a loud splash, his head resurfaced after a long pause before he began to swim to the other side.

Omma gasped and tried to flee back into the tunnel. She didn't cover more than a few steps before Dart caught her by the waist and lifted her up. 

"No! Not into Slíðr!" Panic made her voice shrill and grating. 

Before she could protest more, Dart stepped off the cliff and she screamed until they both plunged into the cold river. Dart reemerged, dragging her on her back as he swam to shore and pulled her up. She screamed at him again, angrily this time.

Viper drew back inside the tunnel until he couldn't see them anymore. They began to call for him, but he stood frozen on the rough granite. Every moment that passed felt like a thousand blades stuck into his gut. He wanted them to stop shouting for him.

He'd never before experienced such a grueling wait, but eventually they stopped trying. He waited a while longer before he dared sneak up to the edge and rescan the cave. It was empty. They had moved on without him at last.

He analyzed the walls several times, trying to find some points he could use to scale horizontally, but the walls were too smooth. It would be possible to fasten the grappling hook in the tunnel, but even if he climbed down the slack rope he would still have to swim. 

He almost gave up then. Admitting defeat because of his unresolved fears would have been easy, he was trapped alone inside the tunnel. Without help from the others, he would never be able to go back and lift the boulder. He could just lie down until a serpent came to him or the Chiva ended and the Overseers told him to kill himself. It felt like he deserved it. He was a failure.

Viper switched modes in his bio-mask and scanned one last time. The topology of the cave was enhanced with a three-dimensional grid. The visual aid highlighted anomalies in the cave's structure. It revealed an indentation in the pillar with the serpent drool. It was deep and wide enough to give his grappling hook purchase, but would it take his weight? 

He untangled the rope coiled on his belt and fastened the grapple. It took him a couple of throws before he aimed it right, but the hooks eventually lodged into the crack. He pulled on it as hard as he could. It didn't budge. Viper decided to try. He had nothing to lose. After tying the end of the rope around a peg he had driven into the tunnel floor, Viper took a shorter wire from his belt and threw one end over the taut line. He tightened it and wrapped the ends around his wrists for support. The setup seemed to hold his mass when he tested it.

As afraid as he was of water, Viper never feared heights. He zip-lined off the ledge and over the river in a few heartbeats. Before his body hit the pillar, he dropped the wire he was holding and fell to the ground. His joints creaked and a sharp pain shot through his left shin. He had landed askew and likely twisted a sinew. 

Viper clenched his teeth. His mandibles flared out momentarily before he gained control over the pain. A small injury like that wouldn't stop him, not when he had come this far. He squeezed himself through the crack until the path expanded to a size large enough for running. Viper hobbled forward, picking up speed as the pain slowly subsided. He had no idea if he would ever catch up with the others, but he had to try.

He reached a mountain chamber with a floor that was filled with honeycomb-shaped holes. Each hole was slightly wider than shoulder-width. There must have been hundreds of them. The fatigue that settled on him felt almost as heavy as the mountain itself. 

Viper searched each hole, scanning with his visor and trying to listen for anything, anything that could give him a hint of which way the others went.

The cavern was quiet as a tomb.

Then he heard a faint noise. It was distant, but the high pitch sent a jolt of excitement down his spine. This was exactly what he needed to regain his confidence. He listened closely at the edge of each hole until he thought he found the source. If he still had his rope and grappling hook, he would have checked the depth, but that option was closed to him now. He only had one way to find out. The orange-colored Young Blood jumped inside...

The walls of the chute were coarser than he expected. They tore and grated on his thick hide. In some places the stone even managed to pierce it. His descent never changed angle, it was a free-fall straight down. Viper regretted the decision to throw himself down the pit almost instantly. In his mind, his body became completely perforated by sharp stalagmites.

When he reached the bottom, it was not made of dripstones as he imagined, but something he hated with equal passion; _Water._

His feet, body and lastly head, plummeted into its depths with a painful splash. Even at his lowest descent, his feet didn't touch the bottom. Frozen with fear, he floated under the surface unable to move.

The water was crystal clear. He stared forward into the billowing contours of a wall, arms floating loosely above his head. Bubbles left his mouth slowly until all the air in his lungs had been expunged. It would eventually start to burn and when he couldn't take it anymore, he would inhale. Viper knew the pain would only increase if he tried to breathe water. He had experienced it all before.

He panicked when something grabbed his arm in the water. His weapons were tucked neatly into their holsters, but it was as if he couldn't remember how to draw them. So, this was how he would die...


	14. Chapter 14

**Odin's PoV**

Going back to his ship after witnessing the ape unwittingly participate in the trial was inconceivable. Odin turned back to the mountain's ceremonial chamber and watched the entire 'exchange' between her and the Young Bloods with a building unease. Exactly how much of an effect the images had on him wasn't clear until it was over and he felt _relieved_. 

Ull wasn't answering his comm anymore and this annoyed Odin as well. The other Elder was losing his sharpness, beginning to turn a blind eye to regressions. He wondered if Ull had fallen asleep while monitoring again. 

It took some time for Odin to browse through the data-store for guidelines. The search would have gone a lot faster with Ull's additional help.

The recorded Chiva-rules were quite simple. To become blooded one had to deal the death blow to a kiande amedha, but not one already mortally wounded or otherwise incapacitated by another hunter. The honor code had to be kept at all times, even if the trial was considered a type of party hunt. A Young Blood could choose to kill all seven serpents by himself as long as he didn't steal another's trophy.

Odin found no regulation prohibiting a blooded hunter to mate, even if the ceremony had yet to be completed. Finding physical pleasure with another species wasn't unlawful either, simply because it never happened. It wasn't forced copulation, the female ape had given her consent. Touching another male sexually, like the green male, Dart, had done, wasn't precisely disallowed either. Same-sex relations didn't exist as far as the records were concerned, but Odin had heard rumors of males sometimes mounting another male as an act of humiliation, but it was hard to get proof this was done with any regularity. As much as he searched, Odin found no evidence of a code-breach.

Inexperienced as the Young Bloods were, Odin also noted they failed to seed her properly. If it had been a Yautja female he would have been offended on her behalf. It was very doubtful she received any kind of pleasure from their floundering, but she was a mere ape. Considering her feelings in this was a complete waste of time.

What was more disconcerting was Dart's naive promise to help her escape. It was bordering on deceitful. If the female managed to survive the cave labyrinth, Odin would kill her himself, swiftly and as painless as possible.

There were _even_ more details about this trial that didn't sit right with him. The unexplained death of the parasite was one of them. Odin selected the camera feed of the ceremony from an array of recordings. He watched the eggs open one after another. Slowing down, freezing a frame, augmenting the details with different overlays, he could still not see anything from the seventh hatching. The stone pillar obscured everything! He almost punched one of the columns inside the cave before calming himself. He had exhausted all options available to him. The only chance left to explain what happened was if the surviving ape remembered something. Unlikely, but he hated that this part eluded him. Every aspect of a Chiva up until the Young Bloods were dropped on location should be under his control.

There was still not enough evidence of tampering to abort the trial. If he were to seek the younglings out and meddle directly in the hunt, the consequences would be irrevocable. He'd have to terminate the trial and erase all their achievements. For the time being he had to be content with simply monitoring their activity. 

The Young Bloods were walking a long, straight passage. Odin's visor showed no kiande amedha in the vicinity of the group.

The hunt had entered a quiet stage. To pass the time, Odin tried to do some reading simultaneously but with only one good eye it was hard to do both without flicking back and forth between focal points. It was giving him a headache.

When the party jumped into an underground river the Chiva became interesting enough to gain his full attention. One of the hunters refused to follow the rest. His hesitation was awkward, it was almost as if he feared the drop or the water itself. Odin asked himself if it could be possible to pass training with those kinds of inhibitions. Trainers must have become too lax if they let such weakness through. Odin was educated by his own bearer, an unforgiving female who valued endurance above all. She would never have sent a pup to a Chiva who was afraid of water. This particular Young Blood was the only one who had not killed a serpent yet, even though he had an opportunity to do so. Nature would take its course with such ineptness.

His interest was best directed at the others. Since he seemed to be the only Elder doing any overseeing at the moment, he still had to keep a small frame with Viper's feed in his visor, in case the Young Blood got lucky and stumbled on a serpent. Unlikely, but this was a trial that seemed to have an abundance of unlikely events. Odin didn't feel confident enough to disregard him completely. After all, if the small female had what it took, a Yautja should have it too.

A bright indicator suddenly flashed angrily in the corner of his visor. Odin opened the feed by directing his one eye to the notice. A monitor frame showing a cavern, partly filled with water, grew bigger and covered the previous image. From the murky depths, the remaining two serpents surfaced and leapt up on a rocky bank. One of them snapped its jaws at the other's face and a high-pitched scuffling echoed inside the cave until they quickly settled down and crawled into a crack spewing water.

Odin cross-referenced the location with his overall map. Goshawk and Dart had just entered a chamber directly above the cavern. He enlarged their views and observed their reactions to the screeching noises. The area they were in had walls and floor made of several different minerals. Apart from the dominating granite his scanner picked up porphyry, sandstone and slate. The latter had been mostly eroded by water over the millennia creating a matrix of peculiar holes in the floor.

Goshawk laid down flat on his stomach and dipped his head into one of the pits.

"I'm climbing in. You keep lookout," he twisted his head to face his Chiva brother. Dart clicked in affirmation.

Odin watched as Goshawk secured his rope and slithered into the hole. The climb down was over 10 times his length, his rope ended over the placid water of the cavern where Odin had spotted the creatures. 

The serpents were still hiding out of sight. The cave had the same lifeless, desolate look as all the other spaces in Dragon Mountain. Goshawk scanned the area with his mask. Unable to find anything suspicious, he started to ascend. His climb back up was cut short by a bone-chilling blare. Goshawk whipped his head down to search the cave once more. The shriek still echoed between the stone walls, but his visor failed to register anything except the tunnels and crevasses leading further into the heart of the mountain.

The brown-gold male huffed and scaled the rope swiftly.

"Dart!" 

The green male tensed and switched focus from the cave's entrance to Goshawk, who collected the rope and detached their only remaining grappling hook from the hole's edge.

"We can continue down through this chute. There's water to cushion the drop." Goshawk let his gaze drift from Dart to the female. "It's higher than our last jump. She might break some bones."

Dart's shoulders sank a bit. He lumbered over to Omma, who was sitting with her back against the wall, eyes half-lidded from battling sleep.

"Omma. Jump." Dart played back and pointed a talon to where Goshawk was standing.

His words made her eyes snap open immediately and she shook her head fiercely, uttering loud protests. Dart wasn't waiting for her consent. As Goshawk jumped into the pit, Dart hoisted her by the arms, proceeded the few steps to the hole, and stepped inside, still holding her wrists with his own arms pointing straight up.

His feet broke the surface first, creating a miniature whirlpool that sucked them both into the crushing fathom of the lake.

The impact jolted Dart, resulting in him losing the grip on Omma. His added mass made him sink faster and deeper. It looked almost as if she was drifting upwards in the feed, even if Odin knew they were both sinking.

Goshawk's visor, which had shown the larger male resurface already, was once again enveloped in billowing darkness. Bright green and yellow colors flashed in the infrared view of his mask, the structure grew as he pulled Omma to his chest and began to paddle upwards. She wasn't breathing or moving when her head breached the surface. Goshawk pulled her up on the rocky bank and scanned her vitals. Her heart was beating irregularly and her lungs were filled with fluid. She still failed to draw breath.

Goshawk kneeled motionless for a while, perhaps contemplating something, but then he leapt into action and pushed down his paws on her ribcage. The female spewed water and started coughing violently. Her eye-lids flew open and she had a wild look in her gaze as she tried to familiarize herself with the pitch black cavern.

Dart came swimming and hauled himself up from the lagoon. "Sorry," he panted, out of breath from his crawl. "She slipped."

Goshawk grunted at him and pushed the female into Dart. "Your responsibility."

The brown and gold male stood up and searched the cave. There were a couple of tunnels leading out but he never ventured far inside them after securing the location. 

He came back from his exploration and stopped in front of Dart. "Can't say where the noise came from. You want to wait?"

As if on cue, another echoing scream bounced between the walls. The serpents were behaving oddly, Odin suspected they were trying to lure the younglings into another trap, but what kind, he couldn't deduce. More shrieks followed, Goshawk whipped his face in every direction to find the source. From a hole in the ceiling a large body descended quickly, wearing metal grieves, breast-plate, gauntlets and helmet, the body hit the water, causing massive waves to disturb the tranquility of the underground lake.

Goshawk's visor indicated it was Viper. When he didn't resurface, Odin's theory was confirmed. The last remaining Unblood had not mastered the art of swimming. 

Goshawk seemed to have drawn the same conclusion. Without hesitation, the large male dove in and swimmed into the depths of the lagoon. Several arm lengths down Goshawk spotted Viper. The flame-colored male was still sinking, his arms were floating listlessly above his head. Making a final push to reach his brother, Goshawk kicked his feet and stretched down to grab an arm.

When he pulled up Viper and their heads broke the surface, Viper sucked in air into his lungs with a shaking wheeze. Goshawk dragged him on his back in the water until they hit solid rock.

"Pauk Viper!" Goshawk was bristling with anger. "Why didn't you swim!?" He shook Viper until he became lucid enough to push back the unwelcomed paws with a mean snarl.

"Where have you been anyway?" Goshawk's voice was accusing.

Viper bounced up and ignored his question. He looked up in the ceiling, no doubt searching for the serpent they heard earlier. Nothing registered in any of their visors, until Omma screamed.

Viper and Goshawk spun around simultaneously at the cry. Dart pulled Omma roughly backwards, barely evading the slashing tail of a serpent twice her height. Viper reached into his holster and drew his glaive. He threw the spear with all his remaining strength, it whistled through the air and lodged itself into the serpent's gut. It howled shrilly and grabbed the end sticking out from its stomach. Viper uncoiled his whip and charged the creature, he was showing surprising spirit, compared to earlier.

The segmented metal whip caught one of the serpent's legs, when Viper tugged, it skidded toward him, struggling to keep itself upright. 

On Goshawk's feed, Odin saw the brown male attack from the side. He charged the serpent and knocked it over with his body weight. The snarling kiande amedha was still unsteady from the whip pulling its leg and the glaive stuck to its stomach. It fell almost without effort. Odin watched as Goshawk raised his dagger high and drove the blade deep into the creature's heart. It spasmed and grew still.

Viper stood frozen and gawked at the carcass. Odin understood the agitation Viper must be feeling, but Goshawk did nothing wrong. The serpent was neither incapacitated nor mortally wounded. He was obliged to attribute the kill to the brown-gold male.

Viper stirred into action with a furious roar and flew on Goshawk. He punched him in the side of the stomach, making Goshawk topple over and roll on the floor. 

"Why?" His mortified hiss echoed inside the cavern. Goshawk bounced up to his feet and evaded another punch by leaning backwards.

"I had the right to kill it!" Goshawk rumbled back and doubled over when Viper kicked him in the gut. The large male took another punch to the chest and fell on his back. Viper threw himself on top, driving a sharp elbow into his chest. Goshawk coughed and spit blood inside his visor. Viper punched him again in the stomach before Dart wrapped his arms around Viper dragged him off. 

The green male was purring soothingly, restraining Viper who was still glaring at Goshawk. Viper's chest heaved with every labored breath and Odin could see spittle spraying the inside of his visor. Viper was practically foaming from his mouth with anger.

"Why'd you do it!?" Viper was seething.

Goshawk grunted from pain and propped himself up on an elbow. "I wanted to kill it."

The response triggered another surge of fury in Viper, Dart was barely able to hold him. 

When he finally calmed down enough to be released, Dart whipped his head around the cave. His distress was unmistakable, "Where's Omma?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Omma's PoV**

When she slowly came to her senses, Omma found herself thrown over a chitinous shoulder. It felt nothing like the _jǫtunn_ who had carried her before. Freezing water sprayed them from above as they moved through another tunnel. The underground labyrinth was close to breaking her down mentally. She was so exhausted, nothing mattered anymore. 

_Áma..._

The voice she heard was soundless. Her ears weren’t a part of sensing the speaker. She couldn't discern if it was old or young, male or female, not even if it was human or _not human._

_Áma... Queen..._

She knew then, madness had finally overtaken her. There was nothing else to do but relax into it, to let the dragon carry her wherever. It was a relief to stop struggling. Her mind wasn't even hers anymore, she had lost.

_Áma... Mother..._

Omma moaned dimly. Her body ached, everything was uncomfortable. The dripping water was icy, too cold, and the dragon carrying her was too rough. It's spindly limbs were hard and jagged like a skeleton, only slightly more substantial. Stronger. Too strong. She let her head sag on its solid chest.

_Áma... Rest..._

The dragon stopped it’s ceaseless crawl into the deep, dark caverns. She could still hear the pitter-patter of water dripping around them. The air was colder here, she could almost feel every individual drop of moisture frost on her skin. The dragon had for some reason not killed her yet. When it put her down she could see its silhouette in the shadows. Terrible teeth grew from its predatory maw, a tubular head crowned the spiked shoulders and its hands ended in talons that could tear her heart out as if they were opening a mussel. It looked famished. Omma nearly wished her owl eyes hadn't been bestowed upon her. It would have been better to remain blind.

_Why?_

She didn't think it mattered if she fought back against the insanity. Perhaps it was best to play along while she was still breathing.

"What do you mean?" She asked out loud, secretly wondering what the frost giants would do if they could hear her talking to herself.

_Why kill? Others._

The question confused Omma. Others? She had killed a dragon, but it was a monster, an insentient creature, the voice had to be wrong. 

"I haven't killed anyone," Omma feigned. "Only a monster. Is that what you mean? The dragon I killed?"

_Áma kill. Others._

"I don't understand…" She curled together into a ball. "Please leave me alone…"

The dragon breathed into her hair, it was salivating. Sticky drool dribbled on her head and naked back. 

_Stay… Kill. Not._

The dragon nuzzled into her neck. She shivered from terror. Was it the dragon who spoke to her? Could it send thoughts to her mind? The query paved the way for another grueling question, could the dragon read her mind?

_Yes. Áma. Think. Loud._

_Freyja!_ This was bad. She didn't want the dragon inside her head! It was distressing enough to be able to hear it, look at it, touch it! But to have it invade her thoughts as well?! She did her best to block the memory of wanting to kill every last one of them, but it was impossible to _not_ think about it. The creature growled threateningly and gripped her shoulder roughly. Its talons pricked her skin.

_Queen. Áma._

But oddly, it loosened its paw and sank down on the floor so its large head rested against her hip. Then, it sighed and a heavy relaxation sank through its strange body.

Omma didn't dare move. She tried to mold her unpleasant thoughts into fondness, but it was hard not to be disgusted by the insect-like bipedal creature resting beside her. She attempted to picture it as a large lizard and her hand moved to gently stroke its elongated head. The creature purred even though her hand was trembling.

After a while it became less nauseating and her motions turned mechanical. For the time being she saw no other option than to deceive it into believing she was friendly.

The dragon jawned, stretching out its blunt tongue. Since the darkness of the cave made her nearly blind, she didn't see the teeth until the dragon pressed the appendage against her leg and tenderly nibbled her skin. The realization made her freeze. She closed her eyes and tried to picture her homestead until her revulsion was under control. It was affectionate towards her for some unknown reason. Even though she had killed one of them, even though it must be sensing her disgust, it still sought her company.

 _Helheimr_ was indeed a strange place. In the village no one could stand her, but down here, all sorts of creatures seemed to be drawn to her like moths to a flame. The memory of her frost giants nestled into her consciousness and refused to be pushed aside. When she closed her eyes she could feel them rub themselves on her body, hear their excited breaths and the scent… The fragrance that made her head feel like it was filled with wool. It was foliage and loam, nothing like the wet rock smell the rest of _Drekfjell_ carried. It had felt good to be wanted. Worshipped. She couldn't deny it. 

Maybe the villagers were right calling her an enchantress? Down in the underworld, with a terrifying dragon groveling at her feet, she almost felt like mother _Hel_ herself.

"Come to me…" She sighed faintly and stroked over the barbed spine belonging to the monster beside her. It chirped happily, devotion overflowed her mind. The creature sat up on its haunches and pressed its forehead against hers. Its purr vibrated through her entire body. 

_Queen…_

"Yes… I'm here." She felt elated, as if her bones were feather-light, hollow like those of a bird. She was almost floating.

The crack of the whip was so fast she didn't hear the whistling noise when it sliced through the air until the moment it coiled around the serpent's arm. Her dragon was pulled away from her and it shrieked in agony.

Three tall, dark silhouettes stood in the opening to their nest. The middle one was hauling in the screeching dragon. She stared mesmerized, so focused on the shadow wielding the whip, she didn't even notice when Dart picked her up and pulled her further away from the scene. 

The dragon slashed furiously with its spiked tail and clawed with its arms in the air, making it hard for the other _jǫtunn_ to reach with his blade. 

When the frost giant holding the whip reached to pull something strapped to his back, the creature, who was more than a head taller than them, managed to snatch the whip from his hands. The giant roared fiercely and pulled out his double-tipped spear from the holster while the black dragon untangled its arm and kicked the whip away from the asseilats.

The creature screeched in anger, calling for reinforcements who weren't there. Omma leaned into the smaller _jǫtunn'_ s arms. She felt safe with him, he came back for her! They all did…

The dragon launched against the other two _jǫtunn_ , it snarled viciously, spraying saliva on the cave floor and on the giants trying to fend it off. The frost giant with the spear deflected a swipe from its talons while the larger giant was knocked to the floor by its lashing tail. 

The dragon leaned forward and snapped its jaws at the warrior. The giant ducked, but was nicked by the dragon's fang-riddled tongue. A bitter scent filled the nest as fluid began to ooze from his helmet. The gravity of the situation made Omma's focus even keener, she could now actually see rubbery appendages slap against the sides of his helmet as the _jǫtunn_ twisted its body and swirled around, dodging the dragon's attacks.

The larger giant scrambled to his feet and thrust with his dagger in a rear-attack. Without taking its attention from the spear-wielder, the dragon slammed its tail into the large giant, pulling his legs from underneath his body. The _jǫtunn_ fell once more with a disgruntled roar.

The dragon hissed and circled the remaining enemy. It twisted its body and swooped the spear from his hands with a flick of its thagomizer. The dragon kicked at the giant, its talons striking the metal of his breastplate. The creature went in for another swipe with its serrated tail, the giant flung himself to the side and somersaulted out of reach.

Infuriated, the larger giant who had recovered charged the serpent and knocked it over. It screeched and rolled away from the attacker, bouncing up on its feet nimbly before the _jǫtunn_ could follow. 

The other, now spearless giant attacked the dragon from behind, in his hands flashed a blade similar to the one the other male was carrying. Without looking back, the dragon sensed the attack and whipped its tail up. The thagomizer struck the warriors neck and he fell helplessly to the ground, his dagger clattered away.

The large warrior roared and charged again. This time his dagger delved into the dragon's abdomen. Omma could almost feel the searing pain herself, but the creature grabbed him where his arm was lacking armor and impaled his flesh with its razor-sharp claws. It twisted and flipped the giant to the ground. There it hovered above his head, sticky drool dripped onto the giant's face. 

It pulled back to gain momentum for the killing blow. Omma felt a terror unlike anything she had ever felt before. The dragon was killing them all, the giants who saved her, who promised to take her back up to the surface!

"No!" Her scream was not loud, but it made the dragon freeze in the middle of its strike.

Omma wanted it dead! Her inside was in complete turmoil. She screamed at the creature again to stop.

_Too loud! Hurts!_

Omma barely registered its protest. She didn't hold back one bit of her hatred and disgust. She screamed from the top of her lungs,

"DIE!"

The dragon lurched back, it raised its talons up to its head and shrilled in agony. It clawed its own face.

_Áma. Kill. Not!_

Every word it sent to her was suffering, but she didn't care. She wanted it dead with all her heart.

The dragon wobbled, its arms jerked fitfully and it threw back its head in a bone-chilling blare, behind the creature, one of the giants rose from the shadows. He had picked up the lost spear and drove it purposefully into the monster's spine. It stiffened and gurgled, from its maw spurted a fluid that made the cave floor sizzle and smoke. The dragon relaxed, Omma could feel it letting go, the relief as its torment ended, then it dropped slack on the floor and it was over.

The giant with the spear drove the tip repeatedly into the carcass. He didn't stop until the dragon was transformed into a smoking pile of meat. Afterwards he stood frozen staring at it, as if he couldn't believe it was finally dead. Behind her, Omma was startled by a high pitched trilling sound. The large giant stood up and joined the strange cry. It sounded just like when she had killed a dragon herself.


	16. Chapter 16

**Viper's PoV**

He didn't realize the Chiva was completed until Dart's and Goshawk's victory trill ringed inside his head. The trial was over, he had passed it! Instead of forcing him to take his own life, Odin would welcome him as a fully fledged member of their clan.

Now an adult hunter, he could do as he pleased. He could travel anywhere he desired, hunt whatever prey he wanted, and he could mate with any willing female…

His gaze drifted unwittingly to the primitive being in Dart's arms. Omma wasn't a Yautja female. She wasn't even worthy of holding his seed, but with the adrenaline of victory still coursing through his veins, a part of him understood why the others hadn't been able to resist. Her scent was like a beacon pulling him closer.

The female's small stature should be unappealing. The crown of her head barely reached Dart's chest. Her skinny arms and legs made her unable to run or climb properly, her plump behind that was pressed up against the green male's thighs held more fat than muscle.

Large eyes studied him in the darkness. Viper wondered what she saw, what did she think of the images her vision captured? Did she find his body appealing? Could she see any of the crimson stripes that decorated his fiery yellow hide? Merely moments ago he had felt worthless. Even now after defeating a kiande amedha, he wasn't without faults. Perhaps it was only natural for two imperfect creatures to find comfort in each other.

He caught Dart looking intently at his loincloth. When his own gaze fell down to his crotch, Viper noticed the bulge that made his metal codpiece tent. Every muscle in his body throbbed after the fight, he hadn't felt his own erection until he saw the outline of it underneath his armor. Now that it was visible in the visor of his mask, he couldn't ignore the swelling sensation any longer.

Dart loosened his hold on Omma's stomach and lower ribs. The female gasped when he shifted his paws upwards, to cup the round globes of flesh on her chest. He could easily encase one of them in his palm. When the green male squeezed them lightly they conformed pliantly in his paws. She leaned back against him even more and tilted her face upward towards him with her eyes closed in relish. Her mouth opened to suck in air and she jerked when one of his fingers brushed over a wrinkly teat. The reaction made Dart purr and he repeated the motion until she was writhing against him in pleasure. 

Viper's feet seemed rooted to the mountain, he was unable to move or do anything else but watch her full lips part to expunge lustful sounds. Her scent had become so rich, he could visualize the fragrant particles dislodging from her skin. They were hovering in the air like a shimmering dust, congregating around her female parts. She had him completely enthralled.

"Come…" Her alien eyes opened and drank him in. The night vision of his mask wasn't able to render the color of them fully, but the depth was cosmic. Her words compelled him, he had no other choice than to do as she asked.

When Viper was within reach she ran her fingers across his stomach, the contact felt like a thousand needles of ice stabbing through his skin. His muscles reacted with contraction. Petrified, he watched her slender fingers undo his belt and expose his brimming erection.

Dart purred encouragingly when she wrapped her fingers around the rigid shaft. He couldn't stop his hips from bucking into her hand. The friction made his legs tremble. He desperately wanted to touch her but he had forgotten how to move.

As if she could read his mind, Omma took his paw and pressed it against her pubic mound. His talons carded through the strange hairs growing above her slit. She hissed when the pad of his finger delved between the silky lips and opened up a path through the slippery tissue. Each time he rubbed his digit through her damp folds, he was rewarded with breathless gasps. Viper feared he would reach completion simply by entering her with his finger.

Dart removed his paws from her chest and moved them down to touch her backside. He grabbed behind her thighs and lifted her up without warning. Omma yelped when her legs were raised high and parted by his strong grip. Below the patch of blonde fur, her wet cunt unfurled in front of Viper. Dart positioned her perfectly for him.

Suddenly he was able to move again and wasted no time maneuvering himself between her opened legs. He proceeded to rub the head of his cock against her wetness. With one paw behind her knee to lift her up further and the other to angle his member, he eased himself into her heat with short thrusts. 

She was just as tight as he expected her to be. Even though she was leaking liberally he had to apply force to be able to sheathe himself fully inside. When he was hilted, he took a moment to let them both catch their breaths. Omma tried to lock her legs behind his hips, but he was too wide to hold onto and her legs slipped when he finally started to move. 

Viper tried to keep a gentle pace but it was gradually replaced by more frenzied thrusts until he was rutting her hard against Dart. Her moans sent jolts of pleasure down his spine, meeting the intoxicating fizz that trickled down his length every time he brushed the tip against her squelching inner walls. Her hand moved down to where their groins met and a couple of thrusts later she juddered against him, panting out her pleasure onto his chest. A gush of moisture sprayed his thighs when her cunt clamped around him, keeping him from moving. She was squeezing his member tightly and squealing in pleasure-infused pain. Viper forced himself deeper and felt his abdominal muscles clench, the tickle in his cock increased into an ecstatic throb. Warmth washed through his limbs as his prostate contracted to expel his semen in thick cascades against the entrance to her womb.

  


**Dart's PoV**

Allowing Viper to take her first had been well worth the wait. Having the fire-colored male claim her against his torso was sweet torture, but it was nothing compared to the reward of sharing. He was eager to mix his own semen with Viper's inside this frail, pale goddess. His mask-covered face twisted to the side, trying to spot Goshawk. It would be three times the fun to share with him too, but the large brown-gold male was studying them silently, unmovingly. Nothing in his posture revealed he was coming over to join them. 

Dart put Omma down on the floor again. She turned around to face him and his focus instantly switched from his Chiva brother to her malleable lips, which now pressed between the wide-meshed threads of his thermal netting. The moist trail her soft mouth made down his upper body was halted at the sturdy lining of his weapons belt. He undid it without her prompting.

Once released from its leather prison, his blood-filled cock was dripping with unbridled arousal. Dart had already grown hard by the time she shouted out her disdain against the serpent. He'd fought back the need to bury his cock inside her for most of the fight and throughout her and Viper's intercourse, but with her mouth so close to his erection he'd happily shove his member inside any of her holes to release the pent up tension. His cock ached, but when her mouth continued to press against his stomach, closing in on his jutting limb, his knees buckled and he fell backwards. Dart's backside hit the ground heavily, but his armor absorbed most of the impact.

Omma was standing above him with a surprised look on her face. Dart thought he'd lost his chance due to his clumsiness but she lowered her body over him and straddled his stomach. Her hands started to explore his torso, across his metal-studded leather cuirass and up over his neck guard and bio-mask. Omma's face contorted when she understood how heavily clad he was. Her soft lips thinned into a line. Dart hoped she wasn't displeased with his armor. His cock felt cold and exposed, far behind her perch on his abs. He was still curious about her soft mouth and what her plans were with it before he stumbled. Dart didn't know what he wanted her to do, all he knew was that he wanted to be inside her. He wanted to give her his essence, again and again and again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Goshawk's PoV**

The fact that she never once looked his way since they came to rescue her shouldn't have bothered him, but it did. It bothered him a lot. He had killed three of the serpents, as many as they all had combined, yet he still felt like he had to prove himself somehow. If he wasn't living up to his size, his skills with the blades or his Sire's lineage, who was he?

It hurt his pride that she invited the weakest of them all to mate first. Viper barely passed the Chiva! 

He hated how merely being in the same chamber as her made his cock grow heavy. It was unnatural to want her in the first place. This irrational attraction to her almost made him feel sick again. 

Dart took everything so lightly! In a way, Goshawk envied the carefree, jade-colored male. Dart followed his impulses and never regretted a thing, even when he made mistakes. It was obvious he was her favorite. She always clung to him like a suckling while he doted on her like one.

As Goshawk watched her taste Dart's hide, he realized he was afraid. He had learned not to fear death, but no one had taught him how to deal with rejection. It was one thing to give in against a stronger Yautja female, but the prospect of being denied by a weak creature like Omma honestly scared him. 

This was why he hated the way his body reacted to her. He hated that his erection betrayed his otherwise schooled features. When she turned her face towards him, still straddling Dart's waist, he hated that he would still do anything to show her he was a worthy male.

His trainer once told him that a Yautja never felt fear. If he ever found himself in a situation where he began to doubt himself, where his hearts began to beat irregularly without any physical explanation, he had to face the fear head on. Conquer the situation or perish. There was no other way to avoid total humiliation. A hunter who was afraid was a dead hunter. 

Goshawk's feet became the heralds of his newly found purpose and they brought him right behind the object of his desire. She was still looking at him and her eyes saw right through his self-doubt. Her sky-colored orbs conveyed everything he needed to know to feel reassured. The breathless "yes", forming on her moist lips was what he needed more than anything in the universe.

His urgency knew no bounds. That Dart was lying underneath her was of no consequence, he grabbed her by the neck and pushed her down onto her stomach. Her fleshy teats were squished against Dart's visor. 

The way her legs were spread on either side of Dart's midriff left nothing to the imagination. She was completely bared. The engorged slit below her buttocks was squinting brazenly at him. He would stake his claim, if she was too small to accomodate, so be it, he didn't care. Dart's unattended erection was barely a nuisance when he squatted down over the couple and grabbed her thighs to spread her even wider. Some of Viper's residual seed still trickled from her hole when she moved. The additional lubrication would aid his siege.

He didn't bother to remove his loincloth. It was faster to raise it over his pelvic area to uncover his throbbing erection. With the last obstacle out of the way, he lay his massive body on top of hers and mounted her. His anxiety all but melted away when he ran his length through her wet folds. To have their genitals connect, even without penetration, was almost enough to make him erupt. 

The sensations blitzing down his member when he touched her was like a landslide. It was impossible to stop it or slow down. He managed to breach her canal and sink the tip of his cock inside her slick heat, but Goshawk was ambushed by his inevasible ejaculation before he could thrust deeper. His body shuddered uncontrollably until his groin stopped pulsing. He dislodged from her when he'd regained enough physical function to pull himself up and crash on the ground. His expelled seed pooled on the other male's abdomen. Dart's hard cock twitched as he regarded Goshawk through the visor. The larger male was too exhausted to say something, he needed a moment to collect himself.

  


**Omma's PoV**

It was like she couldn't get enough of them. She was drunk on attention, a corporeal manifestation of _Freyja's_ benevolence. Her womb felt like the vessel of _æsir_. Without malicious intent, they were one by one ensnared by the ravenous trap between her legs. 

The _jǫtunn_ were so strong, so powerful. Their minds were almost impenetrable, except to her. It wasn't until the dragon had linked with her she finally understood. They yearned to worship her. All she had to do was accept their love and limitless devotion. When the giants gave her their seed, they were hers forever.

The dragon had almost died when she screamed into its mind. Omma had no idea how she did it, but she felt the creature break right before the frost giant stabbed it. Had it been weaker, it would have died instantly, a younger specimen certainly would have. When the dragon told her she had killed others, it meant the parasite that climbed out from the egg, she understood that now. When the hatchling touched her, she experienced the same unbridled dread she felt when the _jǫtunn_ fought the dragon. It was easier to break the parasite because it had been younger.

Omma didn't know if this was a power she always possessed, but never explored. The villagers had always said she was an outsider. Still, she hoped she had not inadvertently hurt the town folk, especially Bjǫrn's stillborn son. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she was the cause…

A deep purr pulled her back to the present. The frost giant who called himself Dart was stroking her head. His fingers combed through her fair strands. He was such a gentle creature. She liked him the most. If there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that she would never cause him any harm. Her hand moved to cup the front of his helmet. Once they found the way back to the surface, she hoped he would take it off so she could look at him. She wanted to imprint the face of her savior forever into her memory.

He didn't even seem to mind the sticky leftover semen that covered his abs. He'd waited so patiently for the others to take their pleasure, she almost forgot he'd been left without. 

Behind her, his member stood turgid and waiting. When she scooted down over his stomach, it poked her lower back insistently. He smelled like beechwood and rain. She contemplated turning around directly on his abs to give him pleasure with her mouth, but on a second thought she concluded it was better if he saw what she was doing. Her previous attempt had probably frightened him.

She tried to slide off him to position herself better, but Dart caught her legs swiftly and pulled her down again. 

"Don't. Leave." The strange dissonant voices stitched together a sentence in her language. His fingernails rested lightly on her ankles, he wasn't holding her forcibly.

Omma had to twist her back painfully to face him. "I wasn't leaving you," her voice chimed soothingly. She turned back and ran her fingernails up the inside of his thighs. "Trust me?"

Dart answered with a relieved sigh. She moved to sit between his legs, which twitched nervously when she rested her hands on them. To ease him into it, she started by kissing the rough skin on his inner thighs. His entire body stiffened when her lips made contact. She stopped and raised her head tentatively.

"Trust Omma?" She didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.

Dart inhaled sharply and made a quiet clicking sound. She still couldn't understand them when they spoke their own language. Even when she delved into their minds, all she could discern were their emotions and instincts. She found herself inside endless mazes and they were almost impossible to navigate.

Despite her reassurances, his body stiffened with unease when she resumed her attention on his coarse skin. His failed attempt to relax when her tongue explored the area surrounding his cock was adorable. She almost nipped him just to make him twitch again, but his blatant erection was too alluring to avoid any longer. She flattened her tongue and dragged it over his entire length. If Dart was stiff before, his body now completely froze. The only sound Omma could discern was the hiss of his breath against his mask as he watched her closely. 

He was leaking a steady dribble of saline lubricant on her tongue when she slowly explored his sex. Despite his size, the tip was slightly tapered and a perfect fit for the cavity of her mouth. She let her tongue trace over the head while her lips curled around him, careful not to scrape the sensitive limb with her teeth.

Dart's thighs trembled from the exertion of keeping still. His quick, shallow breaths were barely visible on his chest. He didn't say anything, never let a single wayward groan escape his mask, but his fists were balled tightly along his sides.

Having no previous experience with frost giants, she could only suck him like she would a human man. She lavished attention on the head of his cock, occasionally allowing it to slide against the roof of her mouth. Each time she swallowed him she became a bit bolder, took him slightly deeper, even if her teeth nudged the smooth surface of his shaft. His member felt raw against her tongue, as if there wasn't any excess skin on it like she was used to.

Suddenly large hands took hold of her calves and distracted her. They traveled exploringly over her legs and arrived at her rump, where they squeezed her flesh roughly. She almost choked when the probing talons dipped into her sex and started to map out her sensitive folds. It was impossible for her to see who was touching her even when she looked down between her legs. It obviously wasn't Dart. 

She refocused on his erection again and lapped at the border between the tip and the shaft, not trusting herself enough to take it inside her mouth while the other's digits were fingering her slit. 

Dart's hands moved up to find her head. He stroked her cheeks and hair, buried his thick fingers into her soft tresses. His hands tugged her face downward, begging wordlessly for more of her wet mouth. The _jǫtunn_ behind her swiped the pad of his finger over her clit and she jerked. Her anonymous lover repeated the motion and her thighs shivered for him. Dart groaned when she probed his urethra with the tip of her tongue. The digits kept playing with the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, making her dizzy with pleasure.

Dart's fingers were still tangled in her hair, but he let her set whatever pace she wanted. It was impossible for her to swallow more than half of him, but he seemed content with what she could give. His abdominal muscles bunched underneath her hands and he exhaled harshly when she molded her lips around his tip. His hips bucked into her mouth and he made a sound that was otherworldly. Every reaction she drew from him spurred her on to take him faster, deeper, make him melt underneath her, until he was shaking and whimpering. 

She could feel his cock swell in preparation, her cunt was tingling, but she tried to disregard the exquisite sensations the hand between her legs conjured to focus on Dart. He was panting underneath her and his arms shook violently. She increased her efforts on him and ignored the burning feeling in her stretched jaws. He was close, his fingers fisted her hair near the scalp and pushed her down roughly. She used her tongue to press his length against the roof of her mouth when it slid in and he stilled completely. His body jerked with every gush of cum that erupted from his member. She drank him until he had nothing left to give and he found his breath again. He belonged to her now, body and mind.

When she let go of his spent cock she finally allowed herself to focus on the sensations building between her legs, the calloused fingers that tried to tease her into ecstasy. She only needed a moment to get there, a few more strokes to fall over the edge into temporal oblivion.


	18. Chapter 18

**Odin's PoV**

When the last one of the participants became blooded, he should've felt content. The purpose of these trials was to test the battle skills of the Young Bloods. They were faced with the greatest foes known to Yautja; the _kiande amedha._ If they could kill a black serpent with subpar weapons and armor, they could accomplish anything. Odin wasn't feeling content. He was feeling very...not-content.

The last serpent had acted strangely. Why didn't it kill Goshawk when it had the chance? The behavior it displayed had been abnormal. Not only when it hesitated to deal the death-blow, but even before the young hunters entered the nest. 

Kiande amedha that captured potential hosts never showed affection to their prey. In fact, they didn't show affection at all. The bond the serpent and the seventh sacrifice shared before the fight had been highly disturbing. 

Odin left the thought in the recesses of his mind while his eye was drawn to the monitor-feeds on his visor.

A part of him had believed the Young Bloods would stay satisfied after expelling their youthful seed earlier, but it was obviously a long time since he himself was that young and ...eager. Odin couldn't understand what it was about the female ape that made the younglings act like ape-men. They couldn't get their ze'phas wet fast enough.

It would have been easy for him to see the female as a victim of three hormonal Young Bloods. The males were more than twice her size and could without effort wring her neck with a miscalculated move, but Odin couldn't lay all the blame on the juvenile hunters. She was doing plenty to encourage them. Her sexual greed was boundless when she lured them with soft touches and flagrant displays of her feminine parts. He watched in horrified trepidation when the female gorged herself on the green hunter's ze'pha. The act itself was something he'd seen the apes do before, but the thought had never occurred to him that a Yautja would want to engage in such activities. One treacherous bite and a male wouldn't sire anymore sucklings! It was Odin's firm belief that mouths and mandibles had no place on sensitive body-parts.

It was his task to oversee. He had no choice but to continue his assignment. Odin had to watch the female feed on Dart and swallow his ejaculate. Times like these made Odin proud of his self-restraint. Whenever he felt his own genitals stir, he focused on how degrading the whole situation was. They were spilling their seed inside an animal. To further distance himself from the act, he tried to comm his partner again. To his surprise, Ull answered immediately.

"I thought you'd fallen asleep again," Odin growled roughly. 

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the link. "...That happened _once_. Give it a rest." Ull continued affronted, "I skipped three sleeping cycles. I was exhausted and the Chiva was boring. If you think I'm too old and feeble to do my work, send me away on my last hunt!"

Odin huffed at him. "So why didn't you answer until now. Where were you?"

"...You don't want to know," Ull cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'm here now, talking to you, aren't I? Let's finish this. Are you dragging them out of there by their mandibles?"

Odin contemplated retrieving the Young Bloods. He knew their exact location from the monitors, but he decided he wasn't going to be the gruff, old Overseer that couldn't stand anyone else having a good time. They were adults now. He wasn't _envious_.

"No. I'm giving them a chance to see reason."

"I see. This is by far the strangest Chiva I've ever agreed to monitor," Ull mused. 

The Overseers' attention returned to the video-link and they fell back into a stiff silence as they continued to watch the unsolicited activities. Viper kept rubbing his fingers over the outside of the female's yon-i. Odin had never thought too closely about why apes enjoyed that, but he surmised there must be something there Yautja didn't possess. It was an odd evolutionary feature that didn't make sense to him. Yautja females could only receive pleasure by stimulation to their cervix. The mating act often threw them into rage-infused ecstasy. This was how sucklings were made. The apes were...weird.

Viper crept on his knees and positioned himself against her sex. Somehow, the little female managed to conform around his size and accommodate him fully. The male's groin slapped close against her backside when he began to claim her again with rapid thrusts.

Goshawk was studying every detail of her body in his mask. His scanner zoomed in on the spot between her legs where she and Viper connected, then it moved to her plush mouth. The soft orifice was still speckled with residue from Dart's climax. Goshawk stalked closer and stopped in front of her face. He kneeled on either side of Dart's torso to line up his already stiff length to the level of her mouth. The green male underneath them stared up at his bare glutes. The loincloth Goshawk wore for protection had been removed and discarded on the ground. The large brown and gold male looked down at his own swollen ze'pha and stroked the shaft leisurely. Omma stared at him with her big doe eyes. Her chest bounced everytime her body was slammed forward by Viper's thrusts.

Goshawk was breathing heavily in his visor as he watched her move. His mask struggled to vent the fog that threatened to obscure his view. His heavy member weeped pre-cum in his kneading fist as he leaned closer to her mouth. The pink muscle emerged between her lips and skimmed his wet glans. He whimpered when she closed her lips around his limb. She took him deeper and both Elders stared at the visual of her mouth swallowing his member. Goshawk rocked his hips slowly into her wet orifice.

Meanwhile, Dart had taken a hold of the larger male's thighs. His paws were fondling the rough scales on his hide and neared the cleft of his backside. Goshawk seemed too immersed in the attention lavished on his ze'pha to fully understand what was happening, but when Dart worked his talon past the sphincter, he groaned loudly and his dives into Omma's mouth stuttered. Dart inserted his digit to the knuckle and moved his finger in time with Goshawk's thrusts. The all-encompassing stimulation made his muscular thighs tremble. It didn't take long before he roared in ecstasy and pumped his seed inside the female's throat. Dart retracted his finger and clicked excitedly. He moved down his paw to stroke his own restored erection. Omma's stomach was rubbing his tip every time Viper knocked her forward. Dart braced her shoulder to keep her from collapsing when she shuddered and came. Not long after, it was Viper's turn to freeze and climax into her womb. Dart squeezed his member until his ejaculation spewed between his working fingers and hit her belly. 

Viper pulled out carefully and laid down on his back to catch his breath. Nothing was keeping Omma from collapsing in blissful exhaustion anymore. She fell on Dart's chest with a sleepy expression on her face. The green male purred deeply and stroked a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead. The four young mates relaxed, huddled together in a pile of tangled limbs. 

Odin thought he should say something to Ull, but words failed him. His throat felt too parched to speak anyway. He'd given them enough time to end the trial of their own volition. Odin would send them a single reminder. If they failed to heed it, he would lock the mountain until the next solstice. At least he had been able to keep himself from growing an erection. It would have been humiliating, even if no one was there to witness it.

There was still something about the female ape that made him feel uneasy. Every being that interacted with her had shown uncharacteristic deviances. The pki'tle had died unexpectedly, the serpents had all had several opportunities to kill her, but they didn't, and now the excessive sexual power she wielded over the young hunters… She was dangerous. Odin was experienced enough to see this and it was _his_ fault. _He_ was the one that failed to spot her anomalies. _He_ had neglected his duties as an Overseer and _he_ had let her bewitch three young minds that didn't know better. 

There was only one thing he could do. He straightened his back and flexed his arms. He would restore his honor.

Odin sent the blooded hunters the map and coordinates to the entrance where he was waiting. They wouldn't need to backtrack far. One of the tunnels leading from the cave with the underground lake would take the party to the junction leading back to the ceremonial hall. 

His wait was peaceful.

The three hunters emerged from the labyrinth as one being, marching synchronously towards the exit where Odin had taken guard. Omma wasn't with them anymore, their naiveté was bordering on stupidity.

"This is the final portal to your emancipation, but also to your responsibilities." Odin's level voice had delivered the same phrases to hundreds of hunters over the centuries.

"You have all proven that you possess the courage and skill to defeat your enemies in live battle." His gaze drifted between the three younglings. "But there are many other qualities a Yautja must embody..."

None of them responded to him. Odin wondered if they knew how close to disgracing themselves they had come. He doubted they owned the self-restraint to be able to stop if the female had refused them.

"Can you repeat the honor code for me?"

The young hunters fidgeted in their spots. The talkative one stepped forward and started to recount the rules. When he came to the part about taking the trophy of another hunter, Viper gave Goshawk a venomous side-glance. The large male stared back defiantly. 

"Why do you think we have rules against hunting weak prey?" Odin interrupted Dart's recital. "Is it to make sure we always hone our skills?"

Dart quieted down and looked at the floor. 

"Yes…?" Goshawk replied hesitantly.

"Wrong." Odin stared at them through the pained eye on his visor. The younglings kept silent. Their heads were bowed with trepidation and respect.

"We don't hunt weak prey because we are at the very top of the food chain." Odin preached sternly. "When weaker prey looks at us, they see us as gods."

The three young hunters visibly shrank in front of him. They most likely felt targeted by his sermon, justly so.

"To hunt something is not always about stalking and killing. Sometimes a hunt can have alternative motives," Odin lectured enigmatically. "However, the code still applies."

He didn't have to explain further. By the shameful looks of them the message seemed to have gotten through. There was however one more subject he wanted to approach.

"Do you think an honorable hunter tries to deceive his superiors?"

The young males in front of him froze. The larger one of them swayed like his legs were about to fold. Odin wasn't going to let them pass without receiving confessions and apologies from each one.

"She's hiding in the tunnel beyond the sacrificial chamber!" Goshawk almost shouted. He doubled over and bowed so deeply his visor almost touched the ground. "Revered Elder, we accept whatever punishment you see fit!"

The other two mirrored his concession. Odin basqued in their remorse for a bit. They seemed to have learned their lesson. The hunters were still young, he always gave the Young Bloods some leeway when it came to the code. The only one he was adamant on was himself.

He pressed the switch on his wrist gauntlet that intactivated the lasernet sealing the exit. With a fluid motion he moved his broad body from blocking the tunnel.

"Return to your pods. Ull will officiate your initiation rite."

The young hunters visibly relaxed. They crossed their arms over their chests to salute the Elder and scurried out of the mountain. Odin rolled back the stone over the entrance after the last one had left. It was just him and her now. He would correct his mistake. Killing her and then himself would restore his lost honor. Cetanu would welcome him to the eternal hunting ground.

He walked through the passage and into the ceremonial hall one last time. The bodies on the floor dissolved when he dosed them with drops of the blue liquid he kept in a vial on his belt. 

He didn't even need to scan for her heat signature. The stale smell of drying mating fluids pinpointed him to her location. She didn't try to flee when he appeared in the tunnel before her, silent and enormous. Odin was grateful of her valor. He didn't like to run this blade through his prey's back. 

She stared at him with wide eyes. He doubted she could see much in the dusk of the tunnel, but perhaps she somehow managed to recognize him. Her kin were certainly familiar with the tale of Odin One-Eye. 

"All-father!" The shock and awe was apparent in her voice. So she could see more than his silhouette then? The ape threw herself on the cave-floor in submission. She raised her head to peek at him as he approached. Odin stopped in front of her. 

"Child… Close your eyes." He rested his glove on the hilt of his blood-snake. It was better for her if she didn't have to watch. The screech when he drew his blade from its scabbard made her eyes snap open. Odin raised it anyway, he had no choice. He brought it down over her head, but as the blade whistled through the air, her pale body dissolved into grey mist and his sword sliced through nothing but vapor. From the fog, a bird rose and flapped its wings. Its large, pale-blue eyes stared at him. He stood petrified, locked in its gaze. Odin didn't regain the ability to move until the owl had disappeared into the darkness of the cave-labyrinth. 

Ull's voice clicked uneasily in his helmet. "You're going to hunt her, aren't you?"

"Yes." Odin stared into the tomb-like quietness in front of him.

"Are you sure? If you do this, there's no turning back. You need to catch her," Ull voiced his concern.

"I'm aware." Odin scanned through the feeds from the nearest cameras. The bird continued to descend deeper into the tunnel. Odin sheathed his blood-snake and picked up the chase. Dragon Mountain was his dominion, he'd die before giving it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is _the end_ folks! I'm sorry it was a bit abrupt but I have not only one, but TWO, epilogues planned. So don't unsubscribe just yet!
> 
> Another huge thank you to [Iblankedonmyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iblankedonmyname/pseuds/iblankedonmyname) for proofreading, giving me feedback, finding inconsistencies and pointing out clunky sentences! ❤❤❤


	19. Chapter 19

**Epilogue**

Leaves turned yellow, red and orange. They gravitated toward the earth's core and were weighed down and battered into a brown mush by the perpetual rain of the season. The hunter was perched on a branch, his cloak flickered and deactivated in the downpour. The weather would make it so much harder to stay out of her sight.

His bio-mask scanned the forest floor. She wasn't up in the canopy like he was. His prey preferred the steady ground under her bare feet. The birds had almost stopped their song. Some of them had already migrated south and others were preparing to leave. They traveled in fitful convoys, evading larger birds of prey or following an individual with a slightly unreliable internal compass. 

A doe with her quickly growing fawn made her anxious way through the bushy undergrowth. Leaves rustled when they leapt over a rotting log to continue their invisible trail. The hunter watched them graze the few remaining green leaves on a low-hanging branch. When the animals moved on, he could only hear the wind ruffling the trees and the pitter-patter of the rainfall. 

The heavy drops shrank and dispersed into a thin mist. From the tall beech tree he could see the calm mirror-like surface of the lake. The mist grew thicker near the steep mountainside. To catch up with his prey, he needed to move into her fortress. The woods on the north side of the fault were imbued with fog. 

He jumped from tree to tree. His agile limbs traversed the thinning branches without making a sound. This was how he was trained to hunt, how he trained his own pups to hunt. The scanner in his bio-mask picked up a heat signature. It was moving along a winding forest-path. As he closed in on the target, the scent of her roused every cell in his body. He landed nimbly on top of a tree's root to keep his presence unknown. Still, the female turned her head slowly to look directly at him. The soft, grey tufts decorating her horned owl mask trembled in the breeze. 

The hunter felt his stomach knot. He had searched for her for so long, his body and pride ached alike. When he launched at her, she opened her arms and laughed brightly.

"You got me!" She snickered as he caught her waist and pinned her to his copper-plated cuirass. Her scent up close filled him with desperate want. No other fragrance was as invigorating and soothing at the same time. He was excited to have caught her at last. When her small, feminine hands caressed his exposed biceps, he clenched his muscles reciprocally.

"You make. Odin wait. Too long." He inhaled her scent and crushed her firmly to his large body.

She pressed her mask against his armor and murmured into his chest, "It's no fun if I let you find me too easily."

Odin huffed and pushed her back long enough to undo the rope securing her grey robe. The thin fabric floated to the ground, leaving her completely bare save for her mask. Her pink teats were already erect and the mist surrounding her gave her pale skin a ghostly glow.

He was wearing too much armor, she always said so, but there was no hunter more efficient in disarming than the All-father himself. He quickly pulled off and laid aside his pauldrons, gauntlets and greaves. The copper-veneered chest-plate took minimum effort to dismantle. His thermal netting, weapons belt and loincloth were discarded like fruit peel. The only item he kept on was his bio-helmet. Even though her face was obscured by the mask he could tell she was admiring his form.

Odin moved his paw to her mask, but she caught his wrist and stopped him before he could unclasp it. "No, I'll take it off when you take yours off."

Odin growled and retracted his arm. "No."

"You're ugly as a troll aren't you? Admit it!" Omma laughed and danced away from his embrace.

"Yes. I admit." Odin swooped her up in his arms and laid her down on the spongy moss. Tiny pine needles tickled her back so he allowed her enough time to reach underneath to knock away a cone that chafed before he started to rove her body with his paws. Without his thermal netting the cold temperature made him shiver but inside, he was burning.

He traced a line with his talon along her jaw bone, continuing down over her windpipe and sternum. Amazed over how someone so brittle could be so powerful, Odin felt his hearts swell in tandem with his groin. She was exquisite, her velvet skin warmed him and molded to his scales.

The scent of her arousal beckoned him, like nectar attracting a bee, sweet, intoxicating, nourishing. He was already rigid and rubbing himself insistently on her silky thigh. His natural lubrication made the head of his cock glide enticingly against her skin. A part of him wanted to claim her fast and hard against the ground until he spilled his seed inside her, while a more reasonable side urged him to take it slow and savor his hunting trophy.

She took his paw and moved it to cup one of her round mammary glands. He enveloped it affectionately and rolled the pebbled nip between his fingers. Odin enjoyed the way she shook and quivered underneath him. There were so many sensitive parts on the female earthling. Whenever he stroked or gently tweaked the pink buds on her chest it was like opening a floodgate to her cunt. He wanted to pleasure her until she was dripping for him. He wanted her wet enough to bathe in. 

His paw left her chest and explored downwards, across her frail ribs and down over her soft belly. Her navel was another oddity he could never get used to. The very tip of one of his claws could fit inside, so he always amused himself by delving into the hollow before he continued down into the patch of fur above her slit. If anything reminded him of their biological differences, it was these areas where her follicles sprouted rampantly. 

Whenever his digits carded through the coarse hairs he felt debauched. Not that many cycles ago he never would have considered mating with a female of another species. Now, not only did he long for their passionate encounters, he had become an expert on earthling physiology. The knuckle on his index finger dove into her wetness and began to rub tight circles around the swollen nub crowning her folds. He knew every part of her well enough to be able to etch a blueprint of her body with his eyes closed.

Omma squeaked from pent up frustration, watching him ardently as he fondled her. She raised a leg and caressed the outside of his arm with her knee. The movement made her cunt open up tantalizingly and the cloud of pheromones that wafted under his mask almost made him let out a disgraceful whine. Odin wouldn't let himself be distracted. The short gasps and needy moans she rewarded him with kept him focused on the task at hand. Over the cycles he had learned exactly how much pressure he could use to make her come apart. His first tries had been too cautious. She had shown him what she liked, guided his fingers until her lower body was wracked with spasms. Odin had learned to enjoy that alien spot once he learned that her external climax didn't lessen her desire to receive him deep between her legs. Sometimes he'd strum her to completion so many times she'd beg him to stop.

However, this time his patience for such things was nonexistent. He withdrew his sodden fingers despite her unhappy whimper. After, he crawled up between her legs and leaned over her body until they were stomach to stomach.

He teased his erection against her entrance, running the thick length along her swollen labia. She squirmed beneath him, bucking her hips upward, spreading her legs wider to make him enter her faster. He breathed heavily in his visor and pressed the mask against her neck. She was everything, he needed to know he was everything to _her._

"Tell me!" He groaned into her skin. The urge to sink his tusks into her shoulder made his scales bristle. There was more than one reason he couldn't take his mask off during their meetings.

Her loud whine when he withdrew from her was sweeter than any honey he ever tasted. She tried to pull him back against her with her legs, breathing against his earhole, "You're the only one I desire!"

Odin took her knees and pushed them up against her sides. He dragged his cock in her dripping warmth before finding the hole with his tip. He couldn't stop his groan when his cock burrowed into her core, sliding between the resistant, yet slick walls. He stretched her open like no other. Omma scratched the scales on his arms and panted deliriously, "My love!" 

Hilting his entire length inside her was impossible. When he rutted her he always did it slow and mindful of his size. His self-discipline rarely faltered, unless she took him in her mouth, but he preferred her like this. Close and natural, their bodies connecting in an ancient ritual. Odin had not yet given up on breeding her. He only existed to fill her up, pump her full of his seed. Even if it didn't take, he still yearned to sheathe himself inside her when they were apart. 

Omma moaned for him when he picked up the speed of his thrusts. Her heels scuffled to find purchase on his lower back. It was obvious her body wanted him closer, needed him deeper, harder. He felt himself slip. Urgently, his paw searched between their bodies. He needed her to climax! His gonads felt bloated inside his sheath. His body was preparing to release. He found her clitoris and flicked it gently while he angled himself to brush against the front of her vaginal wall. He had to keep his thrusts agonizingly shallow to rub the right spot, not even half his member needed to breach her. 

"Oh god!" She cried out and came apart, panting and shuddering from his devout attention to her clitoris. He continued to rut her slowly and held her until she relaxed and stopped to tremble.

"You've ruined me for all others..." Her whispered praise set him ablaze. He burrowed into her as deeply as he dared, his thrusts pounded fast and desperate. She clung to him with all her might. Odin rooted himself deep inside her and inhaled sharply when the pleasure crested. His ejaculate throbbed into her snug channel as he panted out his release. When he was drained and shaking, he rolled to the side and pulled her with him. He settled her body on his broad, heaving, chest.

The heat radiating from her tiny body was enough to keep him warm. He held her close and stroked her back, tangled his fingers in her long, pale hair. Even though his burning desire was satiated, his mind felt clouded by her nurturing presence. Every moment away from her was tortuous. He tilted her mask up towards his so their eyes could meet behind their impenetrable veils.

"Come. With. Me." Odin held her chin and rubbed his thumb on her exposed jawline.

Her heavy sigh felt like a spear through his chest. He never learned not to ask.

"Villagers. Undeserving" The recordings twisted his message into a crude imitation of his true meaning, but she had to know he was right. After all they've done to her no one could blame her for leaving them.

She shook her head and caressed the top of his paw softly. "They need me."

Odin turned his head to the side and gazed at the altar brimming with offerings for the _Queen of the Mist_. Omma gave them good fortune with crops, fishing and health, they in turn kept her fed and worshipped, but only _he_ truly knew her. Their game of hunter and hunted had gone on for cycles. He cherished the pursuit, but he was old. The time when he wouldn't be able to hunt anymore was imminent. It would be a waste to spend the last cycles he had left without her by his side.

"Even. Gods. Perish." He held her face firmly. Showing in actions the sincerity his voice recordings lacked.

Omma was silent. Her breaths echoed behind the owl mask. "I love you…" her voice held infinite sadness. "...but I can't leave my people. They need me."

Odin felt himself shatter. Even though they've had the same conversation many times before, rejection stung. Their encounters were bittersweet tempests of breathtaking passion and devastating heartache. He knew that when he caught her again next cycle it would all repeat again. It would repeat until one day one of them would walk the forests of the mountain alone with nothing but the receding sun as their companion.


	20. Chapter 20

**A century later  
Summer**

The sleek boat cut through the lake's surface precisely, leaving a single curl in its wake. The old fisherman worked his ores steadily. His shoulders were broader than most warrior's. Even though his hair was more gray than brown, his arms still carried enough strength to drive the vessel forward. In the front, his young daughter sat on the horizontal bench seat and leaned over the bow. She was dragging her hand in the water, stirring up small swirls on the almost mirrored surface. There was a thin veil of mist hanging over the steep wall of _Amafjell_ to the east. The lake was always quiet and hazy early in the morning when the birds were still asleep. Only the fishermen woke before the sun.

He was steering them north. The fisherman rarely brought his daughter out on the lake, but the catches had been small lately. The whole village was starving.

"Have I told you the story about the _Queen of the Mist_?" the old fisherman asked his daughter. 

The girl pulled back her hand from the water, looked at her father and shook her head slowly.

"A long time ago there was a woman named _Omma_. She lived on top of that cliff where the crooked fir-tree stands." He pointed his oar handle towards the mountain before resuming his strokes. "She was an unparalleled beauty, much like you my sweet daughter." 

His sincere eyes and wide smile made the girl snort and blush. She looked down into the water, watching her own wavering reflection staring back at her. The young woman collected herself enough to meet her father's gaze once more.

He made another sweep and let the oars rest on the frame as he allowed the boat to glide in the water. "Omma was betrothed to a giant. He lived far away in the west. When it was time for the giant to come and bring home his wife-to-be, he climbed up the cliffside over the water. But the giant slipped, and he fell into the lake and drowned."

"That's a sad story..." 

The girl turned her head away and looked down at the steady swell caused by the boat.

"I wasn't finished," the old man scolded her. "Legend has it that Omma was so heartsick, she still grieves for her lost love. When there's fog on the lake, like today, it's because Omma weeps and her tears turn into mist."

"I don't believe this story, father," the girl said. "Even if there were giants, the woman would've been old and dead by now."

The fisherman huffed and spit in the water. 

"And yet you believe Father Ignatius when he speaks of those people from the bible. Abraham lived until he was 175. How is my story different?"

The girl sighed and laughed at him. 

"Father Ignatius can speak to God, that's why, and father, if he knew you still worshiped the old gods he would be very angry with you…"

"Hah! How can you say Father Ignatius' God is better than my gods? Has his God blessed my fishing nets? Has his God kept us from starving? No, hush, you foolish girl. You don't know a thing about the old gods and you don't know a thing about Queen Omma."

"Is that why you've been sneaking out of the village at night, father? To bring offerings to Omma?"

The fisherman frowned. His daughter had been brainwashed by the new missionary, just like the rest of the village. As he saw it, if more people still honored the olden ways, they wouldn't have fallen into bad luck. The catches had been scarce for three moons and the crops suffered damage from a late frost that came unexpectedly after midsummer. There was no other explanation. The unfaithfulness of the people was to blame for their misfortune. If the fish didn't return, they would starve to death come winter.

"Omma brings us luck and she can beseech the fish to return. The simple truth is that the offerings of one old fisherman is not enough."

"Father?" the girl's voice was tinged with worry. Perhaps rightly so. 

He let the boat drift into a natural bay hidden in reeds. They made landfall on the north side of the mountain. "We are here, child."

The girl jumped ashore and helped him pull the vessel further up on land to keep it from floating back out.

"We're going to Queen Omma's hill-fort." The old man pointed a finger to a circle of rocks on the summit. "I'm showing you her home."

"Yes, father," she agreed incredulously. 

The mountain-wall was too steep to climb on the lakeside. To get to the fort, they had to skirt around the north peak. The sun was already high in the sky when they reached the homestead. In a pen made of wood, a few pigs were grubbing the soil, searching for edible roots. They didn't even lift their heads to look at the new arrivals. 

The old fisherman had never before visited the hill-fort. When he brought the Queen of the Mist offerings on the full moons, he always left them on her altar at the center of the mountain, a few hour's walk from the village. Most of the time his gifts were a fish or a loaf of rye bread. Afterward he would drink a few mouthfuls of water from her blessed well. 

To get her help with the fishing would require a bigger sacrifice than edibles. He and Omma hadn't spoken to each other during his pilgrimages but he knew her needs as intimately as she knew his. Queen Omma wasn't a bloodthirsty god. She would never ask him to slaughter his own daughter like one of the pigs in the fort's stye. Nevertheless, his only child would become a sort of sacrifice. Not an offering of blood and death, but an offering of _life_. Omma needed a successor, someone to guard the village once she withdrew from the world. He would offer his daughter as her apprentice. 

The pines and firs on the craggy summit grew thin and dwarfed compared to their cousins on the lowland. The forest surrounding her homestead was eerily quiet. It was as if the birds and even the wind felt reluctant to pass through her lands. The air felt warmer than it did on the way up the mountain. Between the trees, on a shadowed and winding game path, he first glimpsed the hem of her dress. The thin, gray fabric rippled in the thickening mist. Her form crystallized further as she walked closer until she was standing right in front of them. 

The horned owl mask covering her face prevented them from looking upon her features. The fisherman didn't know if she possessed the ageless face of an ancient goddess underneath or if her visage was weathered like his own. She was as slim and young looking as his own daughter. Every movement of hers was graceful and distinct. He knew she was beautiful even though her face was hidden. Many a lonesome traveler had fallen for her lusty charms, with her mysterious, esoteric beauty she could ensnare any man of her choosing.

The fisherman pushed his child forward quickly, before he lost his nerve. The girl fought against him weakly while her lips protested without making a sound. Her limbs froze when she clashed into the bosom of the glowing forest fairy. The queen wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders and drew her backwards, away from her father. The fisherman's daughter stared at him with her eyes blown wide, tears streamed over her cheeks. He stood perfectly still, watching the women disappear into the mist.

**Fall**

The fish returned to the eastern side of the lake almost as soon as he made his sacrifice. Schools of bream and perch stirred up the lake’s surface in unsurpassed counts. The fishermen strung their cleaned catch out to dry on large triangular racks. There were still enough hours of sunlight left during the daytime for the process to complete without spoiling the food. 

However, as his belly filled and the other villagers were saved from starvation, the old fisherman started to miss his daughter. Like Abraham, he had chosen to sacrifice his only child, but although Isaac was returned to his father, the fisherman himself was still childless.

The days passed, but he couldn't reconcile with what he'd done. He found no rest and no redemption in seeing his neighbors fare well. The queen had to return his daughter to him!

He set out one morning when the mist was thin, thinking Queen Omma might be in good spirits. The path up to her fortress was laborsome, but he quickened his steps as he got closer to her home. 

"Queen Omma!" 

The fisherman called out to her, searching between the trees to see if he could spot her billowing robes. His heart was almost beating out of his chest. An old man like himself shouldn't have to go through this kind of ordeal. 

In a shadowed clearing he finally saw her. The queen's back was turned against him, her hair was as fair as newly fallen snow. When she slowly turned around, he recognized her feather-ornate mask. She was indeed the _Queen of the Mist_ , but he couldn't see his daughter with her.

"What have you done to my child!?" The old man shouted with tears streaming down his face. Had he come too late? 

The queen didn't speak to him this time either. She floated closer to him, her gray dress shimmered in a ghostly glow, the amber eyes of her owl mask gleamed.

"You witch!" He launched at her, pulled a filéing knife from his belt, and stabbed her in the chest. The enchantress coughed wetly and he felt euphoric. No one else would be fooled by her sorcery. He was her last victim!

He backed away as the witch stumbled forward. Her breaths came short and rattling. She tried to grasp him with her pale hands, but fell before being able to catch his clothes.

Once she stopped moving and her attempts to draw breath finally seized, he kicked her side to turn her onto her back. A crimson splotch of blood spread over her chest and the witch's throat was drenched in her sticky life substance. The fisherman crouched down and wrenched the mask from her face. What he saw underneath was the most horrific sight he could ever have imagined. The dead woman behind the owl mask was no other than his own beloved daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The myth about Queen Omma who lived on top of mountain _Omberg_ has been told in the county of Östergötland for hundreds of years. The western side that flanks lake Vättern is often shrouded in mist. The name Omma originates from _Ama_ , an ancient norse word for _mist_. The fertile plains surrounding Omberg has been populated since the neolithic age and the mountain itself is the focal point of many oral traditions about giants, trolls and other supernatural beings. The mountain has had many names over the centuries; Ammobiӕrh, Amabӕrg and today; Omberg. The story about Omma most likely originates from legends about old pagan fertility goddesses. If you want to read more about Omberg and Queen Omma there are a few resources in English. For example this paper: [pdf](http://www.arkeologiskasamfundet.se/csa/Dokument/Volumes/csa_vol_11_2003/csa_vol_11_2003_s119-138_zachrisson.pdf)
> 
> Finally, thank you for reading and staying to the end of this fic. I'm amazed and humbled that so many people took interest in a story like this. Fingers crossed many of you will give my and Iblankedonmyname's new detective noir a chance. It's two yautja buddies solving a mystery together, a story about friendship, love, humor, tragedy and sexy times of course. Hope to see y'all [there!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579974)

**Author's Note:**

> If you have an idea for a story but don't want to write it yourself, submit your commission [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Yautja_Prompts/signups/new)


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